The Man I Used to Be
by Mercy2908
Summary: In a cabin far from the madding crowd, a boy is unhappy. What is wrong with him?
1. Chapter 1

**The Man I Used to Be**

**Prologue**

Today I've turned seventeen. Seventeen years of life. A seventeen-year-old boy… or a man? Who knows? I've been treated like a grown man for as long as I remember, but deep inside I still feel like a boy, insecure, ignorant and very small. Pa says I have enough reasons to be proud of myself. I can ride, shoot and hunt better than many older men. Naturally, he would pride himself in my skills sincehe's the one who taught me all of it. But what would I know about others? How can I compare myself to other men when I know nothing? I'm totally clueless about what people do or don't do. We never see anybody… ever, particularly me who hasn't left this land in many long years.

My spirit and dreams often tempt me to flee from the place that is my home and has become my prison. I long to see other skies, other sights, other faces, but Pa would never allow me to leave. He always says it's not safe out there, and I'm the only thing that he has in this life. That disarms all my arguments. I don't have brothers and sisters, and my mother died many years ago when I was a very young child. I don't remember her, but Pa's always there to remind me of the horrible way she was killed, and why we are safe now from danger. That always manages to quench my thirst for adventure.

I could never leave my father alone, and I've never entertained the idea of condemning him to sheer loneliness. If only he could allow me to ride with him when he meets Al, the peddler, who sets his wagon full of goodies and tent downriver once a month. That wouldn't be asking too much, would it? When I was younger, he used to take me with him, but that stopped by the time I was around twelve. I'm not particularly interested in seeing the peddler. Al's rough manners used to intimidate me, and I always got tongue-tied in the minutes I was around him, so I never spoke a word. Now things would be different, and as long as I could get out of my neck of the woods for a bit, I would put up with anything. Yet, there's no way I can do that. Whenever I ask my father, his refusal is categorical, and if I insist, he becomes too distraught, going on about Ma and how she died. I've heard the tale so many times in my life, but it always manages to upset me, and I end up dropping the whole thing. I understand Pa, but I hope one day he'll let me break my isolation. Now that I'm seventeen, I should talk to Pa and tell him about my total dissatisfaction about the way we live. I'm almost an adult man, and nothing's going to happen to me just because I want to see something else other than our plot. I can look after myself, but if Pa doesn't let me show him how capable I am and how I can even ride to Rock Creek and back safely, I'll never feel I've grown up at all.

Pa says we have everything we can wish for here. We live in a very secluded area, almost a one day's ride from Rock Creek. Our cottage is comfortable enough, warm in the winter thanks to our fireplace, and quite fresh in the summer. We are flanked by sturdy mountains on one side, and leafy, impressive trees rising together in a forest on the other. Our field grows several crops we live from, and is generous enough to produce enough so we can exchange it for seeds, clothes, spices, or other household items with Al. In the stables we have a couple of cows and goats that produce rich milk, and we always have a surplus of cheese and butter all year round. Apart from the vegetables our land produces we also enjoy good meat in our dinner. Pa is a trapper, and when we check the traps he plants in the forest, there's always some unlucky animal there. Those furs also go to Al, who buys the whole lot for some money, and we keep the meat that can cheer our dinner table any time. Pa, though, prefers our usual vegetables, but I enjoy the taste of some good roast meat now and then.

Maybe Pa is right, and I have nothing to complain about. He says many people would wish to be in my shoes as not everybody is lucky enough to have food in their bellies every day, clothes to keep warm in the winter, and a roof over their heads. That's fortunate, I guess, but it gets too lonely to be myself. I love how peaceful it is here, but I wish I could take a break from this solitude. My father is my only companion and the animals too. I have my own horse, but I can only ride her as far as the confines of our forest, especially when Pa sends me to check the traps. Going beyond that limit is just impossible right now. Sometimes I imagine riding her at full steam, experiencing the wind on my face and in my lungs, galloping with no cares all around the world. Wouldn't it be great? I keep dreaming there's something else in my future than the life I've known so far. That's all I can do now: dream or imagine a different existence that is as out of my grasp as the moon or the stars that look down on me.

At least, I still have some books. They're my only other company. They belonged to my mother when she was alive, and those are the only things we have left from her. Pa has kept them as if they were holy, and now they're my special treasure too. Pa also taught me to read with them. I never went to school, but I learned my letters and numbers from him as well as anything Pa deemed I had to know. Ma's books have become the world where I can lose myself in my worst days. My favorites are the ones about adventures in far-off countries. Oh how I wish I could be like Marco Polo, Gulliver, or those other adventurers. Reading about their exploits and discoveries is like seeing the world through their eyes. However, that's not enough, and doesn't satisfy me any longer. I really long to experience that the world is rich and diverse, not just read about it. Lately reading leaves me with mixed feelings, an intense euphoria but also a deep-felt longing I can't satisfy.

If only Pa could understand me. I'm not scared of the world, and I only want to escape for a bit. A brief trip to the nearest town would do, that's all. Sometimes I feel tempted to sneak out and flee. I tried that once when I was about thirteen, but Pa caught me before I was able to reach my destination, which I don't remember if I even knew. He was so angry and disappointed that it put me off from trying again. I hate it when he looks so hurt. But… doesn't he realize I'm also hurt and miserable? I can't live like a prisoner here alone all my life. I want more, much more, and he needs to understand. He has to understand.

I better stop writing now. I just heard him outside, and he doesn't like me keeping this diary. He says that only sissies do that. I'm not sure what he means by that, even though he calls me that when he catches me doing something he doesn't approve of. For once I'm not obeying him in something, and I'll keep my journal where he can't find it. I need to write and let my misery out. There's nobody else I can talk to about this, and my ramblings offer me some poor solace.

Time to go and resume my chores. Until next time, my faithful listener.

_Lou_

* * *

_**Some of the ideas that have shaped this story better belong to Ellie, so in a big way she's part of the creative process. Thanks so much for your input, Ellie.**_

_**Thanks to my beta-reader Jessica for her help, and thanks to Ellie, Paola, Jenna and Anita for their encouragement when the germ of this plot started to grow in my mind. And thanks to all the LJ ladies like usual. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

_Boggs_

My right hand rises just above my slightly burrowed forehead, flexed like a canopy protecting my eyes from the low sun. A shadowed figure is walking towards me. It is the end of another day. Harvest time tends to be quite hectic, especially when the weather is lenient and kind as it's been the case this year. Lou's been in the fields all day, picking the first crop of the year, but there's also more work on the farm that has demanded my undivided attention today.

While Lou was in the field today, I checked the traps in the forest, brought home my new loot, and then I spent the rest of the day at the stables. The animals can't be neglected, and the construction that has housed them for almost fifteen years now is decaying and in dire need of repair. That is what I've been up to for the remainder of the day. The stables roof is fraught with holes, drilled by the powerful winds that blow in the area, and the whole structure is wobbling and withered, causing the bitter cold to trespass the premises uninvited. Days before I cut down a bunch of the plentiful trees that inhabit the forest, and trimmed them down to plain wood. Repairing the roof and renewing the walls in the stables will still take me many more days, but that ain't something I can put off any longer, or else the animals are likely to freeze to death in the coming winter.

Fortunately, Lou's hard-working and doesn't mind working the fields alone for the time being. I'm so proud of the child I've fathered and raised that my mouth splits up into a bright smile. Yet, whenever I think of Lou, I can't help but sigh in grief as I bring back to mind Mary Louise. My late wife would be proud of Lou too, and she would be happy to know what I've done to keep our child safe. I've never regretted my decisions once through the years, and I'd do everything the same if I found myself at the beginning again.

Finding this protected cocoon was a stroke of good luck. After Mary Louise was killed, I knew our home was not safe for my child. My ambitions to become rich and make a name in the world had languished to almost nothing in view of the circumstances. A couple of months before Mary Louise's murder, I had the misfortune of engaging in some dealings with a few seedy fellas. The business involving the transaction of a cachet of guns overstepped the limits of legality, but I've been ready to risk my own ethics and safety. It was good, easy money, and I wanted to give Mary Louise and our baby everything. Yet, after the devastating blow of losing my beautiful wife in such terrible circumstances, I started to come to terms with the situation and suspicion crept into my mind. I had the hunch that Mary Louise's death could have been avoided if I had not got myself entangled with those fellas. Somehow I knew they were behind her murder and the terrible things she underwent. Naturally, proving my suspicions wouldn't have been easy or even possible. And although I happened to uncover the matter, it could not have been done without admitting my part in those illegal dealings. And what would have happened to my baby then if I had ended up in prison?

It was then that I made the best decision of my life. I turned my back on my prospective, longed-for ambitions, and from then on my whole self poured over my child. Lou had been barely two at the time and needed all the protection I could supply. The first thing I did was to sell our house and find a place where we could be out of danger, somewhere far from the madding crowd like the poet cleverly intoned. Our present cabin was the ideal location, our own realm where no other soul could be spotted. This is the only home Lou knows and clearly loves. That's undeniable, and even though there's always some longing for bigger freedom in Lou's voice and bearing, I know that'll eventually pass because it's simply a fleeting whim. This is the only place we can be. Safety is paramount and I've done everything in my power to provide it for him… her.

Lou was born a girl. I still remember the dresses and ribbons Mary Louise continuously bought for her and how she smartened her up like the prettiest of dolls. Lou was a very beloved, sought-after child, and I swelled with love and pride for my baby since the first time I saw her little, puckered face. No other father can love a child like I adore mine. When Mary Louise was killed, I started to think that Lou's feminine condition was a hazard in itself. My precious child was in constant danger just because nature decided over her gender, and it wasn't fair. Then I had the craziest idea. But who cared if it was crazy? If it kept Lou safe and sound, it was worth a shot. So I resolved I'd raise my baby as a man. It doesn't matter if Lou has a different body. As long as she believes and behaves as any man would, nothing else will foil my big plans for him… Yes, in my mind my Lou is a boy, a he, and looking back now, I realize it was the right thing to do.

Even though on the small side, Lou's the son any father would want. Obedient, hard-working, and a good learner. He's a natural rider and very skilful with our shotgun. Lou is a man no matter what his clothes hide. Naturally, to my chagrin sometimes his true nature kicks in, and then I feel succumbing to sheer frustration and terror. Any sneaky glimpse of the woman I've tried to drown and hide is a risk, and so his safety wobbles dangerously. I hate it when he surreptitiously locks himself up to write that silly, unmanly diary he keeps hidden but whose existence I'm very aware of, or when he occasionally weeps, which thankfully he seems to have tamed in the end. I still fluster with outrage when I remember the time we rode to the peddler's camp, and Lou's attention got drawn to the women's dresses and flowered and patterned fabrics Al sells. It was a total shock when she started fingering and even admiring those frilleries.

Needless to say, that was the last time I brought him along to my periodical visits to Al for supplies, and from then on I decided to leave him at home. It was a risk I am ready to take, and after all, he's not a small child anymore, and a few hours on his own are safe enough. Yet, that proved me wrong. Not more than a year after the dresses' incident I discovered him gone after one of my expeditions to Al's. Fortunately, Lou had not gone far, and I was able to catch up with him before he put himself in further danger. After that fright, I didn't dare to leave the farm in months, but when we ran out of seeds, salt, sugar, and Lou had outgrown almost all his shirts and pants, I had no other option, but to leave the farm to buy our provisions from Al. To make sure I didn't have the same disagreeable surprise as the last time, I locked him up in our cabin. Lou cried, protested, and threw the greatest tantrum, but I was adamant and turned a deaf ear to his outcry, and for years that became our arrangement, which Lou eventually came to terms with. Yet, he never stopped begging me not to lock him up when I rode away to Al, and after a few years I finally relented to his constant appeals and promises to behave.

I wave my hand when Lou comes closer and he can see me. My greeting is reciprocated by another wave and a smile. "Hard day, son?" I ask when he finally stands before me.

Lou shrugs his shoulders. "Not harder than last year. We have a good harvest, sir."

"Thank God for that," I reply, satisfied. The earth's generosity is the rock our lives depend on. In those years when drought reigned, survival became a real ordeal, and I still shudder in fear when I remember a particular stingy year in which I almost considered packing and moving somewhere else. The lack of water and food killed a few cows and all our hens, and Lou had looked so skeletal that I even thought he'd fall sick. Illness was something we can't afford; calling a doctor is unthinkable as I can't have one of those quacks poking his nose in my business. Fortunately, Lou is healthy and strong, and thanks to the preparations and concoctions Al sells, we've been able to get by without major problems. That bleak year fortunately passed, and we survived it. When the first rains arrived, we were still here and I was beyond elation to be reassured that sticking here had been the right decision after all.

"Why don't you go inside and wash up before dinner?"

"Yes, pa."

While Lou walks into the cottage, I head for the stables. As I fill the feeders and troughs, and spread some fresh hay in the stall of our only mare, and the separate enclosure where our few cows quietly graze, my eager eyes study the dilapidated walls. Tomorrow when Lou's in the fields again, I'll start to pull down some sections and replace the trunks with brand new wood. That'll be tomorrow, but tonight I and Lou deserve a plate of hot foot and a good night's sleep.

Once in the house the smell of food fills my nostrils and my stomach rumbles in anticipation. The door to Lou's bedroom is ajar, and through the gap between the door and its frame I see him in front of his miniscule mirror, doing up the last buttons of his shirt. I'm not happy and furrow my forehead in disapproval and irritation, so I pound his fist on the door, startling him. "How many times do I have to tell you to shut the door when you dress and undress? It ain't proper."

"I was here on my own," Lou protests.

"I'm now here too, ain't I?" I rejoin, and even though Lou mutters he doesn't understand what the fuss is since he didn't even remove his shirt while washing up, I can't have any of that. "Just do what you're told, young man?"

"Yes, sir," Lou mumbles begrudgingly and follows me out of the bedroom. While he sets the table, I fill our bowls with the vegetable casserole I've rustled up previously for tonight's dinner.

We each sit in our usual places around the old table and eat in silence. Between bites I study my son… yes, my son, that is the way I always think of Lou even though at the back of my mind I'm very aware of his true gender. It's lucky that Lou is so small and petite and doesn't show any of the voluptuousness other women tend to boast about. Lou's as thin as a rake, and I always make sure he doesn't put on weight. This androgynous person is my own creation, and that is the way things will have to stay. The only giveaway is his well-shaped hips. No man would have that soft roundness, but that's easily concealed too. Lou's pants are always loose and often a size too big for his narrow and thin legs. I purchase all his clothes, and make sure there is nothing too tight that can reveal something.

Maybe my worry for detail and secrecy is out of proportion since nobody comes here to discover my secret, and even if Lou looked all feminine, there would be no danger. Yet, details are important. I need to believe for real that Lou is a man, and he has to believe it himself. A false step and Lou might start asking questions. After all, he's no fool, and more than once I've had to satisfy his curiosity with half truths and some good lies.

As I keep studying him, my eyes fall on his flat chest. I frown as I notice there's something different. Although almost imperceptible, I can make out some incipient mounts that slightly bulge under his shirt. Instantly I know what the problem is. "Why ain't you wearing your long johns top?"

Lou stops eating and looks up. "I… I washed them this morning. I foolishly realized I didn't have spare ones." Lou pauses and adds, "Besides it's too hot when I'm working in the fields."

I shake my head in disapproval. "Have I ever complained about the heat and stopped dressing properly?"

Lou lowers his eyes to his plate of vegetables. "No, sir."

"With your reasoning, I wouldn't be surprised to find you stark naked while working. But you wouldn't do that, would you?"

"No, sir."

"So tomorrow I hope to see you with suitable apparel even if it's a hundred degrees outside, do you hear me?" Lou nods and I add, "And put on your vest too."

Lou makes a grimace but I know he wouldn't dare to contradict me. "Yes, sir."

"And before you go to bed, we'd better do something with that straggly hair of yours. It needs a good cut already."

Lou rakes her fingers through the soft wisps of his short hair. In his eyes I can read his own thought; he doesn't think his hair has grown so much, but then again he won't contradict me, so he simply repeats, "Yes, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

_Lou_

Bubbles are dancing in the pot as the water comes to a boil. I remove the metal container from the range and pour the steaming hot water into a pail I've left at my feet. Picking up the wooden bucket, I trundle back into my bedroom and close the door. I stop next to the tin bathtub that stands half-full in front of my bed. I empty the pail and put it down next to another bucket full of cold water. Rolling up my sleeve, I dabble a quarter of my thin arm into the water to try the temperature. Hmm, just perfect.

A bath was a real luxury. Water is scarce on the farm. We only have a single well, and that ain't enough to cover our daily needs as well as the irrigation of the fields in the dry season. In the years when rain is in short supply, we are forced to find an alternative. The closest stream is a few hours from our property, and it is no easy task to stock up on water whenever the well dries up.

It was a few weeks since I last had a proper bath. Pa is in a generous mood today, which is actually the rule on Sundays, and he's given me permission for the extravagance of a full bath. Even though I wash up thoroughly every day – cleanliness is a must in Pa's book of rules – a bath is by no means comparable to lap my body with just soap and a washbowl of warm water.

I can't help smiling in eager anticipation as I start to unbutton my shirt. I plan to stay inside the tub until the water gets so cold that my teeth chatter or until my hands and feet wrinkle and look like prunes. Yet, I know that with all probability I'll have to cut my bath time short as soon as Pa calls me with one of his usual demands. In any case, I love Sundays. It is the day we always lounge about in the cottage, and Pa always reads aloud a few passages from the Bible. He always says that Sunday should be devoted to Christian duties, and reading the holy book will have to make up for our lack of proper religious guidance. I really enjoy listening to his intoning voice, and love playing all those Bible stories in my mind. Sometimes I imagine I am Joseph and have the gift of seeing the future in dreams, or David who was a simple shepherd and became the king of Israel, or just one of Christ's apostles. It is like being transported to the land of faith and miracles, and for a few minutes every week I can believe I have a life that makes sense. Even though it's just a mirage in my imagination, at least, it gives me solace and satisfies my thirsty soul. Apart from the Bible stories, Pa also neatly reads psalms, and I know a few by heart. I often fail to understand the meaning behind the beautiful words and verses, and I get overwhelmed by dozens of doubts. Yet, whenever I ask Pa questions, he pauses, stops to think, and gives me a stuttering answer that doesn't satisfy my curiosity. He always ends up telling me to keep silent and listen, so now I don't ask too many questions.

My shirt already lies rumpled on top of the bed, and next I slip out of my long johns top and drop them onto the floor. Naked to the waist, I turn my eyes down to explore my own body. My fingers brush over my jutted ribs, which strain against the tight enclosure of my skin. I have thinned again. My ribs have never looked so prominent and visible before, but maybe it is just another sign of the changes my body has been experiencing in the last years. I spread out my hands flat over my ribs, and I can feel the hardness of my ribcage under my calloused palms. The air fills my lungs, and my lower middle wanes and waxes as my hands glide upwards. My fingers cup around the two tiny mounds on my chest. I flinch. They are sore and tender under my touch. That means I'll be bleeding in a few days.

I clearly remember the day I first bled four years ago. That night I hardly slept because my lower abdomen ached and kept bothering me. At the usual wake up time I stretched tiredly and pushed the bedding off me. A casual look was all it took to alarm me, and I gasped in fright. The sight was ghastly, and my body started shivering as my shocked eyes beheld blood staining and soaking the front of my long johns bottoms. I can recall the whole episode as if it had happened yesterday, and I can remember every word I said, everything Pa told me, and how confused and afraid I was.

"_Oh God!" I exclaimed loudly, and almost instantly heavy steps and Pa's voice echoed in the house. Naturally, I could tell he was about to burst into my bedroom at any moment. Not sure what made me do it, I quickly threw the quilt over my body to hide my soiled long johns in shame almost at the same time as Pa stormed into the room._

"_What's wrong, Lou?" he asked as he approached._

"_I… I don't know," I muttered, lowering my eyes._

_Pa sat on the edge of the bed and placed a big hand on my bony shoulder. "Talk to me, son."_

_I sheepishly raised my eyes, and stared at him with apprehension. "Something's not right with me, Pa. I… I'm losing blood from… from my loins."_

_Pa nodded compassionately and it seemed he knew what my problem was. "Don't worry, Lou. Nothing's wrong with you." Before I could open my mouth to speak, Pa sprang to his feet and bolted away. He returned seconds later with a burlap pouch from where he took out some ripped cloth he pressed onto my hand. "Lou, hear me out. What you're gonna do now is wash yourself and pad your bottoms with this rag so that it can absorb the blood. You'll need a new one every couple of hours or when it gets too wet… you know, as if you were treating a seeping wound."_

"_But Pa…" I tried to protest, but Pa wouldn't let me speak._

"_Do as I tell you, Lou. We'll talk later."_

_What could I do but obey Pa? I cringed in disgust as blood kept oozing out of my nether parts. Even though Pa had said everything was all right, I was worried and totally befuddled. The cramps and pains I had been fighting the night before surely meant something had broken inside my body, and that was probably the reason I was bleeding now. Maybe Pa just didn't want to worry me, but at that moment I actually believed there was something very wrong._

_True to his word, Pa went to find me later to talk. We sat at our table, and after clearing his throat nervously several times, he started in an unsteady voice. "Lou, what's happening to you now is just a sign you're growing up. You're becoming an adult, a man, and there are changes you need to go through… like your body getting hairy where it wasn't before, or your… uh your chest growing differently. This bleeding is just a new change; something you'll get for a few days every month."_

_I was shocked when I heard him. "Every month?" I exclaimed, totally disgusted._

"_I'm afraid so."_

"_Every month for the rest of my life?"_

_Pa shook his head. "Not all your life, but most of your adult years. It means you're a man now, that's it, and it's a good thing, ain't it?"_

_I wasn't sure if becoming an adult was so good. For a thirteen-year-old the idea of growing up and becoming a man was still too alien to grasp, and still is four years later. I had many questions I asked myself then. Would my life change when I became a man? Would I be able to make my own decisions? When would that happen for real? Those questions remained unanswered today too, and I still wonder when I'll feel like a true grown-up man eventually._

"_Do all men bleed like this then, Pa?"_

"_Naturally," Pa replied without looking at me in the eye. I knew he was embarrassed like other times when I've asked him about the strange changes I've noticed in my body. Pa doesn't like talking about that, but I couldn't stop questioning him._

"_And do __you__?_

"_Uh… not anymore. I told you. You don't bleed all your life, and I stopped a while ago." Pa paused and after a second he added, "This is a very personal thing, Lou, and I hope we won't mention the matter anymore. People don't talk about these things, not even to their parents. It's too personal, too intimate."_

The memory vanishes like the steam coming from my bath, reminding me I should hurry before the water gets cold. My mind is back to the present time, but I still keep thinking of my father's words years ago, and I really wish I were as lucky as Pa and stopped bleeding soon. Pa has never explained to me why this has to happen every month, and why men bleed so much for so many days. Pa doesn't talk about it and after his rebuke that day four years ago I don't dare to ask him.

My bath is ready and waiting for me, so I finally peel off the rest of my clothes and quickly get inside. I smile and sigh in contentment as I sink down and finally feel the hot, soothing water around my thin, small changing body.

* * *

The afternoon is balmy and invites to enjoy the good weather before autumn unfailingly brings about the first rains and the cold. I bask in the sun, relishing the relative freedom that a duty-free Sunday offers. Pa has decided to take a nap, but I remain outside, sitting on the porch and having one of my mother's books opened on my lap.

Everything is as silent as usual, just with the sounds and noises of nature. I think I am so used to hearing the cawing of birds, the rustling of tree branches in the wind, the neighing of horses, the mooing of cows, and the innumerable voices of animals that my mind hardly registers the presence of those voices of wilderness. It's just silence I hear and breathe.

As I lean my back against the façade of our cottage, I relish the joy of this beautiful Sunday afternoon, and drink on the words of my book. It's "Ivanhoe", which I've read dozens of times, but whenever my eyes blend with Walter Scott's neat writing I become absorbed and totally mesmerized, almost absent from the world outside the pages of the book.

I still wonder what gave me the cue that there was something different, but somehow I am certain that something changed in that moment. A shiver courses through my spine despite the warmth of my body, and as I lift my eyes, I see them. The virginity of the land that is my home is now desecrated by the presence of two strangers.

'_People… real people.' _My mind is reeling, and yells warnings as I freeze on the spot, overwhelmed by an unbridled surge of fear and astonishment. The strangers walking toward me are a grey-haired man and a woman. The man has a stocky body, dressed in denim pants and an old dusty overcoat. The woman is almost his same height, and is wearing a masculine wide-brimmed hat that obscures her face, a line-white blouse, and a riding skirt.

The man lifts his hand and waves as he notices my undivided attention directed to him. Despite the initial scare, I'm also curious, and my feet move by themselves. I leave the shelter of the porch, and take a few hesitant steps in the yard. There is a broad smile on the man's face when he reaches me. "Hey, sonny! My name's Donald Turner and this is my daughter Esther." The man pauses, expecting me to introduce myself, but when I keep quiet, he continues, "We have a hunting lodge just upriver, east of the pass, you know?" I automatically nod even though I ain't sure what pass he means or where the referred lodge is. "It seems we're neighbors, and I had no idea anybody else lived in this lonely neck of the woods!" The man lets out a loud guffaw before continuing, "Neighbor, I hope I ain't overstepping the limits of propriety and civility if I asked you to refill our canteens. We're parched and ran out of water almost two hours ago. Totally insensible of my part, I know. I could still go on for a bit until we reach home, but I'm afraid Esther might faint at any moment if she doesn't drink some."

"Uh… of course I… I can help you," I reply promptly even though I feel totally awkward talking to somebody other than my father. A glimpse at the woman confirms the man's words; she looks pale and weak. As I reach for the canteens, my blood curdles in fear as a shot is heard, and I can almost feel the bullet whizz past above my head. The Turners instantly duck with a hysterical shriek from her and a 'what the hell?' from him. No sooner has the shot echoed in the place than Pa's angry voice booms menacingly, "Get the hell out of my land!"

I spin around and find my father pointing the shotgun at the unexpected visitors. "Pa! What are you doing?"

"Get into the house, Lou!" he orders. "I'll take care of these trespassers."

"Sir, we meant no harm," Donald Turner says, rising to his feet and locking eyes with Pa in the relatively close distance. His meek tone never gives away anything that makes me suspect what happens afterwards. It only took one second, and I wonder how I never saw it coming. The man draws his revolver in a swift motion and threatens to shoot Boggs with a calmness that scares the daylights out of Lou.

"No!" I cry terrified, and without thinking about it twice, I jump before the man, clumsily blocking my father with my own feeble body. "Please don't shoot! Please don't hurt my father!"

"If you shoot my son, I'll kill you!" Pa barks, and I see him squeeze the shotgun more tightly in his hands, but he does not dare to move from the spot where he stands.

"Sonny, I mean no harm, but he's threatening me and my daughter. We came here in peace, and we don't deserve this treatment."

"Please just go. Please. You'll be fine, but go now," I beg in a shrill voice that I can barely recognize as my own.

To my surprise, the man obeys me. He takes her daughter by the arm and steers her out of the property without taking his eyes off Pa for one single second. When the pair disappears from sight as they mount their horses and ride away, I turn round to my father, who is still holding the shotgun in the same exact manner as when he scared the Turners away. His glaring eyes mercilessly bore into mine, and I can easily read the angry recrimination in them.

"What the hell do you think you were doing? Talking to strangers! How many times have I told you how dangerous that is! A couple of strangers killed your mother!"

His words hurt me to the core, but this time I feel unable to bite my tongue. "They only wanted some water! I was trying to be kind!"

Pa scowls in contempt. "Stop being so gullible, Lou. Your naiveté puts both of us in real danger. Can't you see that?" I don't reply and just lower my eyes to the ground. "Now go inside as I told you. I'll stay here and keep watch in case those two return."

"Yes, Pa," I say, defeated. One fine day spoiled, and now I won't even be able to enjoy the relative freedom of a warm Sunday afternoon. Pa won't let me step out of the house for the remainder of the day. My shoulders sag as I shuffle into the cottage. When I'm inside, I toss a look over my shoulder and get a glimpse of Pa out of the window. He's standing stock-still in military style and holding the shotgun as if his life depended on it. I sigh once again. Pa is right to watch out for our safety; it is natural to distrust anything that poses a threat to our safety. It was good of him, I guess, but then, I wonder, why do I feel as if something is very wrong?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3 **

_Lou_

When I went to bed that night, Pa was still keeping watch after the unfortunate encounter with the Turners. Even when I called him for dinner, he had refused to leave his guarding position. I think he's taking things too far, but I know better than say anything.

This morning Pa's already cooking breakfast when I emerge from my room. "No need to go out, Lou. I've already collected the eggs, milked the cows, and mucked out the stables," he says as he transfers some vegetables from the pot into the half-full plate he places before me on the table.

"We can start in the fields earlier this morning then," I mutter as I tuck a napkin into the collar of my shirt.

Instead of commenting on my remark as I expect, Pa surprises me by asking me about the Turners and what they told me yesterday. I just repeat everything that Donald Turner said to me, and Pa remains thoughtful for bit. He is sipping his coffee, and when he puts the cup down, he mutters, "I ain't sure you should be out in the fields on your own today. Those people might be lurking somewhere."

"Pa no!" I protest energetically as soon as I hear his words. How can he even consider leaving me inside our stifling cottage all day long? It would be insane. "Those people won't bother us again. You scared them away for good."

"I dunno, Lou. What if they are actually hiding somewhere, just waiting to attack us?"

"Attack us?" I can hardly believe we're even discussing this. Pa is going over the top with this matter. I might not know much about the world, but I'm pretty sure I'm right now. "Pa, they were just a man and his daughter. They can't have much interest in us. Why should they? And why would they want to attack us anyway?"

"The land," Pa replied. "There are people who are no better than vultures, scavenging what they can from others. This is our land, and no one will snatch our home from us. If somebody ever attempts to seize our property or hurt you, I swear I'll kill them with my bare hands."

A shiver courses all over my spine. I've never heard my father so worked up before, and this talk about killing is so scary that my heart takes a leap. Pa is always so peaceful that his outburst disturbs me greatly. "Pa, I'm sure we're safe. Nobody's trying to hurt us. And I'm a man now, and I can defend myself and our home. You have to stop fretting because there's no danger and nothing's gonna happen to me."

I notice fear and hesitation shining in his eyes as he watches me. Sometimes I feel awkward when Pa looks at me. I don't know what it is, but when he glances at me, I feel as if he were assessing me and studying every single feature in my body, and I wonder what he might be thinking about. I suspect he's somehow disappointed in me. Unlike my father who is strong-limbed and tall, I am quite short and skinny. I have some good muscles, which I always try to get Pa to notice, but it is true I'm on the small side. Maybe I still need a few years to build up my height and flesh. No wonder Pa must think I can't stand up to anyone who might pose a threat to our safety. It hurts to realize Pa doesn't trust me more. Maybe I'm puny and thin, but I'm also strong or skilful. Pa does know I've proved my value and strength too many times before. Who works in the fields under the sun or any inclement conditions every single day? Who maneuvers the plow and strains to plant the fields of furrows when it's sowing time? Who skillfully uses the hoe to get rid of unwanted weeds on our farm? Who cuts wood so that we have enough kindling during the winter? Who toils all day long without protest?

"Pa, please."

He doesn't say anything; he simply rises to his feet and walks out. I'm left alone, wondering what this means. He's obviously upset, but for once I don't understand his fear. This time I won't bend to his will. I won't stay in the cottage as he wishes. I don't want to become somebody like him, scared of his own shadow and afraid to embrace life. I want to live free and unchained, I want to breathe the wind and follow its trail; I want to laugh and cry; I want to see visions I've never seen and taste flavors I never knew existed. I want to love and hate more than a miserable piece of land and a rickety hut. I want more. I want more. Why shouldn't I? Why?

* * *

I was allowed to work in the fields that day, but it was a week before Pa let me wander somewhere else within our limited confines on my own. The stables Pa has been busy rebuilding are almost done, with just the south wall left to complete. He's so proud and content that this morning he seems to have forgotten everything about the trespassers that have kept him on tenterhooks for days long. He surprises me when he asks me to check our animal traps scattered though the forest. I almost jump in joy, and naturally, I don't mention anything that might remind him of those strangers that he thinks are hiding in the shadows, and I leave before he gets the chance to change his mind.

I know this part of the forest like the back of my hand. I don't remember so far back in time, but I know Pa has brought me to the forest with him since I was a toddler and couldn't even speak. Later when I was older, I started to take over some of his jobs and check Pa's traps and collect the animals on my own. I've done it so many times that I could now locate the traps even if I were blindfolded.

Pa should ride to Al's camp sometime this month. He'll exchange the furs for some of the peddler's goods for our farm and also some coins that he always says he saves for unexpected contingencies. I don't recall Pa using the money other than to pay Al, but I also know that our peddler sometimes acts as a middleman when Pa needs something from town. It was Al who bought our newest cow in Rock Creek, and who also took our buckboard's cracked wheel to repair. Naturally, Al doesn't do all these errands for Pa out of generosity, but for some good coins in exchange.

Whenever I come to the forest, I always follow a routine. First, I check the traps planted deep in its deepest bowels. As a rule, those are more likely to be waiting with an expected prize, and it is quite rare to wind up with empty hands. As I trudge further into the forest, I feel the cold permeated into my bones, and I wrap my jacket more tightly. The vegetation is abundant in this area, and the powerful trees reach so high above my head that the sunrays can hardly slink past their thickness. It's dark and tenebrous, and for some reason as I advance, my mood flops down.

Lately I feel more often than not as gloomy and sombrous as the forest. My lack of options and freedom is becoming a heavy load I find more and more difficult to carry on my shoulders. It is as if my life ended in an insurmountable long wall, and my spirit shrinks a bit every day just as my mind and body grow. I tell myself things can change and one day my life will have more sense than now.

I need to stop moping and shush those silly thoughts. There's work to be done, and Pa won't be too happy if I fail to bring something home. I continue my way, and moments later I hear a sound. It ain't an animal, that's for sure, or a bird. I stop and perk up my ears. It's a voice, a human voice, and as the sound gets closer and clearer, I can tell somebody's singing, or rather humming. A branch creaks and leaves rustle, announcing that the hummer is very near. I run to hide behind a tree, and after a few moments of restless wait, I discover the stranger.

Oh it ain't a stranger after all. It's the same woman from the other day, the one whose father said she was going to faint if she didn't have a sip of water. What did Mr. Turner say her name was? Stella? Or Stephanie? Something like that. She's still humming and picking blueberries. Her basket is barely full. No wonder. You can't find many berries at this time of the year.

Today the woman is hatless. She has dark blonde hair, done in a long braid, but not in the way I recall Al plaited his. The woman's hair looks smooth, clean, and neatly done. Nothing to do with our peddler. Apart from his rough ways, what I used to dislike about him was his grubby looks. His too long hair, disheveled, and stuck to his scalp, shone with a slimy-looking glow, his clothes were decent enough, but he stunk… disgustingly stunk as if he had not washed in weeks or even months.

I don't know why I have to think of Al now. Maybe it is because apart from Pa, he's the only real person I've ever known. In any case, this woman has nothing to do with him, and even though she wears a long coat, hiding her clothes, and she ain't close enough, I can tell she's clean, and I can even divine she's well-mannered and a proper lady just like those heroines in my books.

I lean on the tree at a closer angle so that I can have a better look at this woman. Even though Pa's warnings against strangers nag in my mind, I ignore his words. My curiosity is greater than any sense of danger or precaution. I've never seen a woman for real so close before. Yes, there are a couple of photographs of my mother at home, and some drawings of women in one of my books, and I also remember spotting a few women in a wagon in the distance the time I tried to flee from home, but that is nothing like studying this woman at close range.

When I angle my body behind the tree, my feet step on some dry leaves which emit a very distinctive rustling sound. That naturally alarms the woman, who stops her motions. Her fearful eyes are directed towards the tree I'm hidden behind.

"Who's there?" she asks in a quivery voice, and from the basket she's carrying she takes out a penknife and brandishes it in a trembling hand.

That small knife is hardly threatening, and even though I could scurry away easily, I froze on the spot. I hesitate, wondering what to do, but I know I need to leave my hideout. She's discovered me, and even though it was never my intention to make contact with this woman, I know I can't stay put. To my surprise, the idea of coming out and talking to her fills me with eager exhilaration but also with trepidation.

Very slowly I slipped out of my nook behind the tree and stand where she can see me. "Sorry for startling you. It wasn't my intention." The woman appraises me with her sharp, blue eyes, and takes a few steps closer to me.

"I know you. You're the boy from the cabin… the one with the crazy father," she says and lowers her knife.

Her words irk me, and I respond in a stilted way. "My father ain't crazy! He just doesn't like strangers!"

"Crazy or not, he treated me and my Pa very poorly. We weren't doing anything wrong."

I keep quiet, silently agreeing with her. Pa's reaction was indefensible, but I felt I had to say something. "We're not used to having visitors."

The woman curls her lips, and I don't know whether to take the gesture as agreement or indifference. "My name's Esther, and yours?"

"Lou," I promptly reply, and I take a step closer to her, intending to hold her hand and kiss it just as I've read so many times gentlemen do. Yet, Esther ignores my manners and simply sits on a fallen tree trunk, so I remain on my feet before her, with my hand raised in a ridiculous pose. Trying to conceal my embarrassment, I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and sank down next to her. We remain in silence. Esther is twisting a leaf in her hands and her eyes are down, focused on her moving fingers. That allows me to study her. She's quite comely with big, blue eyes, rosy cheeks, a stub nose, and very think lips. The long overcoat she's wearing has a couple of buttons unfastened on the lower half, and through the slit the material of her skirt is visible. It is light brown with a pattern of tiny lilies. I feel a strong temptation to touch it, and I do. My index finger tentatively brushes against the fabric, which is as soft and light as I imagined it would be. Yet, almost as soon as my finger lightly comes into contact with her skirt, Esther gives me a strong push and I end up on the dusty ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demands in a loud voice, sending daggers in my direction.

As I scramble to my feet and take again the seat by her side, she repeats the question in a louder tone. I frown in confusion, clueless about the reason why she looks so upset. I haven't done anything wrong, and she's reacted as strangely as Pa the other day. I remember in that instant that in some of the books I've read women are described as fickle, whimsical, volatile, and an enigma, but I've never had a way to know if that was true… till now. "I… your dress looks pretty, and I was curious," I finally stammer my answer.

Esther narrows her eyes and looks at me as if she didn't understand the language I'm speaking. "Is that the new trick you men use nowadays?"

"Trick?" I repeat stupidly, totally lost and unable to understand what she means.

"Don't act as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. I'm young, but that doesn't mean I don't know what kind of artifice men employ to get the only thing they want from women."

I have no idea what she's talking about. What do men want from women? As far as I know from my novels, gentlemen seem to want love and marriage, but ladies also long for the same. Esther must mean something different, and since I don't want to look like a fool, I simply keep quiet, admitting to whatever she has accused me of.

"How come I've never seen you before?" she asks suddenly, swerving the direction of our conversation. "I know everybody in Rock Creek and many from the surroundings."

"I live here, not in Rock Creek."

"But surely you must have been to some of the socials from time to time, or the town celebrations."

A word catches my attention. "What is a social?" I ask, and the way she looks at me makes me realize it is the wrong question, and once again I doubtlessly sound dumb.

"It's a dance. Every few weeks the church holds a social for all of us local folks."

I nod as I can easily imagine the magnificent balls I've read so much about: the big ballroom decorated lavishly, lit by dozens of chandeliers and candelabra, a band playing waltzes and soft music in the background, and the couples, dressed to their nines, dancing elegantly. What I wouldn't give to attend one of those balls. "I've never been to a… a social."

Esther stares at me in disbelief. "Never?"

I shake my head. "No."

"But why not?"

Her question renders me speechless for a few moments. I know the reason why I don't go to those socials, or, in fact, anywhere. Yet, my father's concern for our safety sounds too feeble a justification, especially to a girl who's used to the life of a town. For some reason I don't want to make a bad impression and I'm aware that she already thinks I'm odd. I can't just botch this opportunity to befriend Esther. That's why I keep quiet as I rack my brains for a plausible way to answer her question without using a blatant lie. "I… we can't leave the farm to engage ourselves in any kind of recreation. We've got lots to do here."

"But all young people should have some fun from time to time, and that's the only chance to meet other young folks. How will you then meet a girl you can marry someday?"

"I… I haven't really thought about that," I reply, which is true.

Esther is about to say something, but in the silence of the forest we both hear the reverberation of my name. Startled, I jump to my feet as I realize Pa is calling me. "I have to go," I announce in a tremulous voice. "My father wants me."

I do not fear Esther would follow me. After the way Pa presented himself to her and her father days ago, she will certainly avoid him, and I have no wish for a second encounter between them.

Before fleeing from her side, I smile and she nods her head politely. My heart and mind are shouting I need to get a move on, but there's something that roots me to the spot. "Will I see you again?" I ask tentatively.

Esther hesitates, and then her lips stretch into a smile. "Why not? What about tomorrow? Same place, same time?"

I simply nod, and as Pa's cries sound closer, I bolt away. I ran and ran, almost stumble in my rush to reach him and prevent a new uncomfortable confrontation. Breathless I stop and gasp for air as soon as I see him among the trees. Pa is standing there and comes closer to me, and at once I notice that consternation mars his features. "Where were you, Lou?"

"Doing what you told me, sir," I answer when I get my breath back. "Checking the traps."

My father throws a casual glimpse at my empty bag and raises an eyebrow, whose meaning is impossible to ignore. "That's so?"

"I… I got distracted," I stuttered, trembling from head to foot. "I… I guess I was daydreaming as you know I sometimes do." I blush when the lie escapes my lips. This is the first time I've intentionally lied to my father, and my heart is thumping so strongly that I imagine he can hear it from where he stands. Pa narrows his eyes, and for a moment I feel tempted to confess the truth. Yet, I keep quiet. Pa'll have a fit if he gets to know I've been talking to Esther. He wouldn't like it and would forbid me from seeing her again tomorrow. I can't accept that. I want to see this girl again, and maybe she can become my friend, my secret friend.

"Let's leave this for tomorrow. There's plenty to do on the farm which is more urgent," he finally says.

"Yes, sir," I let out in a relieve exhalation, and I start to walk ahead of him. I know that if I look into his eyes, he'll know I've lied. I feel his gaze on me, once again studying me, but today I can't be bothered. Maybe I'm growing used to his assessment and the disappointment I suspect he feels, and his next words only come to confirm what I know.

"Square your shoulders, Lou, and stop prancing like a gazelle. Walk like the man you are, for goodness' sake!"

"Yes, sir," is all I can say as I try to heed and content him. After the lie I've told him today, I'm ready to accept his criticism, and do my best to comply his wishes. Maybe one day I'll finally be the man he wants me to be. That shouldn't be so difficult, should it?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

_Lou_

Another Sunday. The days are getting shorter, with few hours of light and too long dark nights. The sun shines too weakly and the smell of snow floats in the air already. So unlike in summer when we spend our Sundays on our porch, now we stay cocooned inside, close to the crackling fireplace. After a fulfilling breakfast, I start mixing and kneading the dough for the biscuits we'll eat for lunch while Pa is cleaning our shotguns. As my hands work on the mixture, my mind drifts back to Esther Turner. I've seen her once more and naturally I haven't breathed a word of it to Pa.

I can replay the conversation we had the last time almost word by word. That day she was waiting for me as we'd agreed. Since the morning my whole body had been trembling and vibrating with eager anticipation, but also with worry since I didn't know if I could finally meet her. Telling my father the truth was unthinkable, so I had to concoct a story to justify my need to go to the forest. I ain't proud of my lies, but I tell myself that I have a good excuse to resort to deceit. I could never make Pa understand why I want to see my new friend.

Esther was sitting on the same fallen tree trunk as the previous morning. The day was colder, and she had donned a warm hood covering her long, blonde hair. I smiled when I saw her, and she smiled back. The idea that she seemed glad to see me warmed my heart. Maybe I hadn't made such a bad impression as I thought. Otherwise, she wouldn't have returned, would she? Yet, on second thought maybe she's just bored and lonely, staying in that hunting lodge with the sole company of her father. Whatever the reason is, I'm happy she decided to honor me with her presence.

We greeted each other sheepishly, and then we fell into an uncomfortable silent lull. Her eyes were on me, and I felt she was assessing me just like my father usually does. I'm used to Pa's studying gaze, but Esther was making me nervous.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped.

Esther didn't seem fazed by my irritation and direct rebuke, and instead of answering my question, she asked one of her own. "How old are you, Lou?"

"Seventeen."

My simple reply stirred her mirth, and Esther threw her head back as she laughed. I stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "Oh Lou, you boys are all so predictable. You know, you don't need to lie about your age."

"I ain't lying," I replied, offended by her comment.

"You can't be older than fourteen," Esther insisted. "There's no shame in that. I think you're an adorable little thing."

"I'm seventeen," I repeated in a firm voice. "I was born in 1844."

Esther frowned, still reluctant to believe me. "But… but you don't look a day over fourteen. You're so … so small and… and you haven't even started growing stubble," she said, brushing her hand over my smooth cheek.

I roughly moved my face from her grasp. I knew what she was saying, but I still swept my eyes over my thin limbs and body. Compared to Esther, I was shamefully tiny, and she's a woman. I imagine I look nothing like other men she knows, and my father and I are really two worlds apart. "I… I take after my mother's family," I said, repeating the words I've heard so many times from my father. "I might be small, but I'm no lesser a man."

"Oh I never meant to offend you. I thought you were younger because you look it. I imagine you still have some growing to do."

"I guess," I admitted reluctantly, but my pride still pushed me to defend my vulnerable position in her eyes. "But I'm stronger than you might think."

Esther flashed a neat, teasing smile. "Oh yeah? Silly me! Why didn't I then realize you're a true Samson in reality?"

She started laughing, and despite finding myself the butt of her light mockery, I ended up tittering along. It was exhilarating to share a laugh with somebody and my jaw and sides started to ache. After a while I didn't even know what I was laughing so hard about.

I like Esther. Everything in her is perfect: her pretty face, her lovely hair, her flawless smile, her elegant clothes, and the soft scent of her perfume. And she's so wise and knowledgeable. All she says is like an open window to the world I don't know. I feel drawn to every word she says, and I think I could listen to her forever. Could someone be more perfect? I don't think so.

Esther also confuses and overwhelms me. Every time she asks me something, I feel like a fool in her presence because either my answer is inadequate or I don't know what to say. That irritates me, and I wish she wouldn't ask so many questions or at least, she could limit herself to matters I could talk freely about. The first thing she wanted to know was what my plans for the future were. How could I respond to such a thing? My dreams are galore, but I'm no fool, and I'm aware that right now they're as unreachable as the moon in the black sky. Pa would never let me go away, and I don't have the heart to abandon him. He only has me. My hope is that I could eventually talk him into letting me overstep the limits of our particular realm. I could become a regular visitor to town and meet new people, and that would surely quench my burning desire to break free. But how could I tell Esther that my plans are something as ordinary for her as drinking water or sleeping at night?

So I only stuttered clumsily again, claiming that I had never thought much about what to do in the future. Naturally, Esther had no qualms in detailing her own plans. She wants to meet a good man, fall in love and get married. Her ideas about the person that one day will become her husband are quite specific too. Her man should be moderately well off, sensibly brave, handsome enough, and with a fine sense of humor. As it seems, she already met somebody that fit the description a few years ago, but back then she was too young and he ended up becoming somebody else's spouse, which meant a bitter disappointment she's still trying to overcome. Yet, despite this first defeat, she's positive that her perfect man is waiting for her out there.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to tell her when she finished her account. Like I told her the day we first met, I haven't thought much, if anything, about girls. Naturally, I've considered in my mind the notion of romance and love since it's something my books are full of, and I can't deny I like it. However, the idea of love and me together has never crossed my thoughts because in my lonely spot possibilities to experience a taste of that are null.

Maybe that can change now that I've met Esther. She's a girl and I'm a boy, and I like her all right. Perhaps that could be the start of something. I have to admit I haven't experienced any of the symptoms my books describe as the disease of love when I'm with Esther. My body doesn't shiver, my heart beats at its normal pace, I haven't lost my appetite, and I breathe as normally as always. However, I've noticed that I blush and stutter when she asks me something that makes me self-conscious. And I definitely like to watch her. My eyes can't stop admiring her long, shiny hair, and the beautiful butterfly-shaped combs that embellish her blonde mane. Not to mention the cute earrings that shine in her pretty ears. That must mean I like her and want to woo her.

It's still early days, but with time I might declare my (by then) undying love to her, and I might be lucky to have hers too. Why can't I be the man she plans to fall in love with? I might not have money of my own, but I'm not too ugly; I'm quite brave, and I do have a sense of humor. And she has even told me she likes the peculiar, grandiloquent way I speak. I haven't noticed I speak differently, but she says I do. Why then can't I be her man? Why? Then all of a sudden, I know why, and it has nothing to do with me or her.

As the answer to my question booms in my mind, I lift my eyes and look at my father. At my slight motion, he shifts his gaze from the shotgun he's cleaning. I have the sensation he can look into my very soul and divine what I'm thinking, so I feel a blush creep over my cheeks. "Anything wrong, Lou?"

I shake my head and turn my whole attention to the dough in the clay bowl. Pa doesn't utter another word, and I can hear a soft swoosh as he oils the gun barrel with a piece of chamois. I focus my attention on the chore, and after I manage to give the dough the required texture and consistency, I fill the mold and slide it into the oven, which is already burning hot. When I sit back at the table, Pa has finished cleaning the guns. I silently groan when I noticed he has replaced the shotguns by his pouch of chewing tobacco. I know what's coming, and I don't like it. After biting off a piece, Pa invites me to help myself. I hesitate, but I finally voice my objections. "Thanks, Pa, but no."

He chews the tobacco for a few seconds as he fixes his stare upon me. When he spews the chaw into the spittoon, he insists, "Are you refusing to share some tobacco with your old man?"

"I don't like it, Pa. It makes me sick," I try to reason with him. I ain't sure why he's adamant I take up this habit I find disgusting and nauseating.

"Don't argue with me, Lou," he says in a tone that I know won't tolerate any protests.

He places the tobacco chaff in my hand, and I reluctantly pull off a tiny piece. As my nose perceives its stale whiff, my stomach summersaults in total disgust, but my father's intense stare urges me to carry on. I place the tobacco on my tongue, which makes me cringe, but I keep my mouth still. My father's eyes still speak volumes without uttering a word, so my teeth begrudgingly move and crush the tobacco. Its flavor permeates all through my mouth. My whole countenance screws and my eyes sting in total abhorrence. I only manage to keep the chaw for a few seconds. Nausea hits me, and before I made a show of myself before my father, I spit the tobacco into my handkerchief and run for a glass of water that I down in one go. There's still a weak remainder of the flavor on my tongue, and I pour myself another glass of water, hoping to erase the distaste for once and all. As I upend the jug, I look at my father who's shaking his head and has a teasing grin on his lips.

"I've never met anybody with such a weak stomach."

"I told you, I don't like it," I reply gruffly as I sit again.

"That's right. My mistake. I won't make you try again, but I really thought you'd appreciate being introduced to some habits privy to grown men. My intention was wholesome."

My moodiness vanishes as I hear his words and the good will behind his action. "Being a man means more than chewing tobacco."

Pa laughs loudly as he hears me. "Oh son, you're absolutely right," he says and rises to his feet. As he walks behind me, he pats my back, showing me the close bond that joins us. I smile and realize I miss more gestures of his fondness for me. When I was a child, Pa used to lavish me with hugs and his simple touch. Yet, his display of affection petered out as I grew older. I still need to know and be shown he loves me, and even though he thinks cuddling is something reserved for weaklings, women and children, I don't think that's true. Or maybe I'm really a weakling as he sometimes hints.

Pa returns to his seat, carrying his old Bible. Like every Sunday, he always reads a few extracts before lunch. Today he surprises me by handing me the book. "You can do the reading, Lou. You're a man now, and I know you read better than me."

I smile proudly as I lift the heavy book. Pa usually chooses the text to read at random, but I do know what I have in mind. My fingers lightly turn its gold-tooled leather-bound cover and go straight to the first pages of Genesis. I clear my throat and start reading the story of Adam and Eve, their harmony with God and all creatures in the Garden of Eden, the temptation of the snake, their transgression and sin, their expulsion from Paradise, and I even carried on reading the follow-up story of Cain and Abel. Why have I chosen this particular passage? The origin of men and women exemplified in the first man and woman has always fascinated me, and now that I'm getting to know Esther, the questions are more alive than ever, questions that I feel have remained unanswered for too long.

When I finish reading, my father is nodding thoughtfully, and after a few seconds comes the reflection he always gives voice to. "There's a fundamental lesson in these verses, Lou. Do you realize that rules are rules? And even if we think we can get away with our sins here on Earth, there's a higher authority we can't lie to."

I blush and look down as I feel his words strike a cord. Thinking of the lies I've lately been feeding my father, I ache with remorse. Yet, I don't want to talk about sins or God. There's something else in my mind, and before I chicken out, I speak up. "Pa, can I ask you a something… something I don't understand?"

"Sure, son. What is it?"

"What does it mean when a man knows a woman like the Bible says Adam knew Eve?" It ain't the first time I ask a similar question, but Pa has never given me a straight answer. Today I have every intention of getting an answer; I won't let him stall me again.

Pa's smile fades and his eyes lower to the smooth surface of the table. I fear he's not going to answer, but after considering my question for long seconds he says, "It means... uh… when a man and a woman love each other and get married, they… uh… lie together."

"Lie together?" I echoed in confusion.

To my surprise I can see my father's face crimson as he fidgets in his seat uncomfortably. His gaze doesn't meet my eyes. "It means they… a man and a woman… join in perfect union like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, like a button and its hole, like a wheel and its axel." And as for demonstration, he intertwines the fingers of his hands as if he were about to pray. "That's the way of God's will. Men are called to have offspring and fill the Earth."

I try to digest what he's telling me, but there's so much that escapes my grasp. I can't picture what he means about men and women. I wonder if it's possible that when men and women lie together is the same as when I've occasionally spotted some animals in the forest on top of each other and Pa said they were in heat. In any case, I feel I mustn't dig any deeper in the matter. However, I ain't done yet. "Do you think that'll happen to me one day, Pa?"

He gives me an odd look and eyes me as if I had lost my mind.

"I mean… having what you and Ma had… love and marriage."

He snorts and shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous, Lou. That ain't possible."

"But why not?" I asked hurt.

"Isn't it obvious, son? Who are you going to marry? That imaginary friend you had when you were a child?"

"If… if I had the chance to go to town from time to time, I might meet somebody nice and…"

"Again with that?" Pa cuts me off roughly. "I already told you. This is our home and here's where we have to be. I think I've given you everything a father could, but all I hear from you are protests and ungratefulness."

That hurts, and I feel horrible. Yet, I can't give up. "I thought you'd like me to have what you and Ma had, that's all."

"Your mother was an exceptional woman, but I've told you thousands of times, son; people ain't good… they ain't like you, me and your poor mother."

"But surely there must be other good people in the world, Pa."

"I guess," Pa admits reluctantly. "But the risk is not worth it. To keep us safe we have to make some concessions… some sacrifices. It's my duty as a father to ensure your wellbeing, and if I let you mix with other people, I couldn't keep you safe, and I'd hate myself if something happened to you. I already lost your mother. I can't lose you."

I sigh, fully aware that he's winning in this old argument, but I still insist. "And what about God's will, Pa? Haven't we just read that God said it is no good the man should be alone?"

"You ain't alone, my son. You have _me_. God in all His goodness and generosity was ready to sacrifice His only son for humanity, but I'm only a man after all, and I won't sacrifice you. We don't need anybody else, Lou. There's nothing out there but corruption and evil. Remember what happened to Lot's wife when she looked back at Sodom and Gomorrah. God turned her into a pillar of salt. Don't try to see and know too much, because that knowledge can be your ruin. Your desires to escape frighten me, Lou. I'm very scared for you… very scared indeed."

I know there's nothing further I could say. My father sends me the saddest look I've ever seen, and that stops me. I regret talking and making him so gloomy. I still don't understand how he so firmly believes there's nothing more than evil in the world. I know different. Esther is a good person; I know she is. If only I could make him understand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

_Lou_

Today my soul feels small as if it had shrunk to nothing but smithereens. The tiny light that recently guided me has dimmed, and all I can see is darkness. My eyes sting and long to cry, but I have to choke back my tears. My father has already noticed my gloomy mood and asked me what is wrong. Of course I can't tell him the reason why I'm down in the mouth and simply shrug my shoulders. To my utter surprise, he urges me to go for a walk since that will surely cheer me up. As his smiling, clueless face looks at me, I feel terrible for all the lies I've told him in the last couple of weeks. Today I'm granted the opportunity to escape to the forest without resorting to excuses and fabricated fibs, and I feel as if I were being given the moon and I had no idea what to do with it.

I stutter and hesitate, and Pa guffaws and tells me to go and breathe some fresh air. I finally set into motion, and my feet lead me to the forest and the path that will take me to Esther. I've seen her every other day in the last two weeks, and our meetings have become the spark in my bleak, lonely existence. We have such a good time when we get together. We laugh and talk like best friends. Esther is a natural storyteller, and I find it amazing for her to have so much to share with me about her young life. Her adventures as a child in a boarding school in Denver, where she is from originally, are incredibly enchanting and so humorous, and the stories about her very big extended family feel so real that it's as if I knew all her relatives already.

Esther doesn't seem to mind my lack of tales. What possibly could I tell her about me and my family? The way my mother was killed can't be included in a normal conversation, and my daily routine on the farm is anything but fascinating. A girl can't be interested in the crops we grow in our fields, my daily cow milking and egg-picking, or my multiple other chores. I think Esther likes to have her own personal captive audience in me, and I doubtlessly enjoy listening to her. So in a way we complement each other, and maybe that's why we get on so well.

Today as I march to a new encounter, my heart is bleeding. Esther's leaving! She's leaving! Her father's going back to Rock Creek now that the winter is here. When she announced her departure to me, she sounded breezy and untroubled while my soul was breaking. She disregarded my worry and shock, and said we would still be friends and see each other in town. I haven't told her that I never go to Rock Creek or anywhere else for that matter, so when she leaves, I'm afraid I'll have lost her forever.

No! I shout in angered frustration as my hands ball into fists. The echo repeats my powerful negative, reassuring my determination. I can't give up on the first and only true friend I've ever had. Esther is special… very special indeed, and I like her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her. Yes! I love her! I love her! We are so comfortable together, and I admire her so much. I don't know much about these things, just what I've read, and even I know that literature and reality ain't the same thing, but this feels very real, and I can say that I've never had these new feelings for my father. Sometimes I try imagining myself kissing her on the lips, and the notion doesn't come easily. It troubles me, but I know it is because Esther is so dear to me that the idea of crossing the limits of civil propriety intimidates me. This love is so new to me, and I feel scared, especially when I have no idea if Esther shares my feelings.

I decide I have to tell her. I will declare my love today. If she's ready to accept me, there's nothing that'll keep me from seeing her again. I'll defy my father and escape his clutches if he doesn't give me another alternative. Yet, if Esther turns me down, I'll have to accept my reality willingly. My life will continue as it's always been, and hopefully, when in the end I manage to persuade my father to loosen his leash on me, I might be able to keep my friendship with Esther alive.

My whole body is shivering as I reach my decision. I can't back out now, and I realize my whole life depends on what happens in the next minutes and on her answer. Oh I shouldn't let myself be daunted. _Act like a man, Lou, confident and brave_, I tell myself, repeating the words I often get to hear from my father. Yet, despite my resolve, I'm a nervous wreck; my legs are quivering like reeds in the wind and my heart has never beaten so hard before.

I smile when I see her waiting on our spot. She's heard my steps and waves at me cheerfully. She looks particularly pretty today in the ensemble she's wearing. Instead of the long overcoat she usually favors, she has donned a light-brown short jacket and her long skirt is pale blue with a small flounce on its rim. Esther has such good taste, and that's one of the things I love most about her.

When I reach her, she greets me in her usual manner. In a mocking, flamboyant way she curtseys and says, "How have you been, kind sir?" She's grinning and as soon as she speaks the words she playfully gives my hat a flick with her finger, dropping it onto the ground.

I hunker down to retrieve it, and as I straighten up and see her amused face, irritation sweeps over me. How can she look so content when she knows this is our last day together? Maybe our friendship doesn't mean as much to her because after all she has dozens of other friends. Or maybe she's really upset, but doesn't want me to know about it. I want to believe that the truth lies on the latter option, but my heart fears that she is indifferent and doesn't care about me.

"So you're leaving today," I mutter in a very soft tone.

Esther rolls her eyes. "Oh don't get me started!" she exclaims dramatically. "Pa woke me this morning at the crack of dawn and has had me packing, tidying and cleaning since. I don't know why he bothers so much. It's just a hunting lodge he uses once in a blue moon, but by the way he carries on, you'll think it's the palace of the Queen of Sheba!"

"Do you mean you don't stay there frequently?" I ask, frowning.

"Once or twice a year can't be called frequent. That's how often he stays in his lodge, and this is my first time. I usually remain at home in town, but I thought I could accompany and see what he's usually up to here. It's safe for me to say that this is my first and last time. I've never been so bored in my whole life, and I never imagined I'd miss dull Rock Creek."

I'm shocked to hear what she says. "But… but I'm gonna miss you."

Esther smiles sweetly. "And I you, Lou," she admits, which naturally warms my heart. "It's been great to meet you, and but for you, I'd have gone crazy with boredom." Esther must have noticed my sullen mood because she then adds, "But please cheer up, boy. Like I told you, we can see each other when you go to town. Everybody knows me, so all you need to do is ask around."

"I don't know when that'll be," I reply sincerely.

"Hopefully, soon enough." She pauses for a second and says, "It's time for me to go. My father's waiting, but I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you."

My face flames as I know this is my cue to speak up. This is gonna be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I can't chicken out. I need to confess my love even though I'm positive I'm getting myself into hot water. My conscience's nagging voice berates and implores me to stay put. This feels like treason against my father. I'm acting behind his back, and it's wrong, but what else am I supposed to do? Pa would never understand this, and it's so hard to reason with him. He believes everything under the sun can hurt us, and I know that's not true. This is my life. Shouldn't I have some say in it? Pa had his chance to build his own path, create a family and choose what he wanted. Shouldn't I have the same right?

"I need to tell you something before you go," I finally manage to utter. I'm not sure how these things are done in real life. Book heroes often propose to their beloved on a bended knee, but I think that would be too much. I don't plan to ask Esther to marry me, just to be allowed to court her, that's all.

I take a step closer, and even though I'm trembling, I dare to gently hold her glove-clad hands in mine. "You're a good friend, Esther."

"You're a good friend too."

"What I want to say is that…"

My voice falters as the sound of heavy steps resound behind us. To my horror I see my father appear like a threatening black cloud intending to block the shining sun. He doesn't say anything, but his livid glare is enough for fear to set in my stomach. I drop Esther's hands and try to say something, "Pa… I… I… This is Esther Turner and..."

My father doesn't let my trembling voice continue, and his low fearsome tone says, "Lou, stop being such a dumb clown, and come with me nicely."

Through the corner of my eye I see Esther's stock still figure, looking at us with big eyes. I imagine she ain't eager to open her mouth and might even be afraid of Pa after the violent encounter she and her father had with him. My apprehension gives way to irritation. Esther's presence makes my father's intrusion humiliating, and an unfamiliar rage and strength simmers within my soul. So when he reaches for my arm, I gruffly push him while I exclaim, "No, I ain't going with you!"

Pa glowers in my direction and I can almost see consummating fire emanating from his eyes. "Lou…"

"I'm staying right here with Esther!"

My stubborn statement means little to him, and he turns to my friend, "Miss, you should go now."

To my bitter disappointment, Esther nods and without a word she hitches up her skirt and patters away. As I see her disappear, I feel a strong tug on my arm. My father tries to push me in the opposite direction, and even though I have no reason to remain here any longer, I fight him. I try to break free, writhing and squirming, but I'm no match to his strength. I next find myself lifted in the air and he struggles to carry me over his arm as if I were one of the small victims in his deadly tramps. I keep trashing and crying 'no', but all I manage is to delay him in his purpose.

My violent motions made him drop me, and I fall onto the rugged terrain, my hands and face getting scratched by the broken stones and detritus on the ground. Yet, I scramble to my feet and made a dash, but my poor attempt to escape from him is soon aborted as he catches me and shoves me back to the ground. My right knee hits a boulder and hurts excruciatingly, but I can't concentrate on the pain as he hefts me again roughly which is simply a reflection of how deep his anger runs.

I still don't give up on my fight, and I wriggle against his steely clump. I'm tired and sweating. When I momentarily relax, I realize we're already in our cabin. Without any preambles he tosses me into my bedroom, and I painfully fall onto the floor. I'm still seething, and as I struggle to my feet, my fists raise to him menacingly. Yet, Pa gives me another powerful push and I stumble and hit the wall. "You have no right! You have no right!" I shout.

"I knew you were up to no good! Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes that easily? I wasn't born yesterday, and I was sure you were hiding something with all that sneaking about!"

"I didn't sneak about! I could've told you if you weren't so unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable! Unreasonable!" Pa barks and thumps his fist against the wall, making the room boom and tremble. "Is it unreasonable to keep you safe, Lou?"

"Seeing other people ain't something I need protection from," I retort in the same loud, angered tone. "Living here alone ain't normal, father! I want to do what ordinary people do! I want to have friends and enemies; I want to come across acquaintances and strangers; I want to fall in love with girls and…"

"Stop it! Stop it this minute! That's simply preposterous!" he exclaims, breaking my passionate speech, and he shakes his head as if he couldn't stomach my confession.

"It's not! I'm human and have a heart," I rejoined with the same intensity. "The world can't be as evil as you make it look. There are good people too, and Esther is one of them!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"She's a very special girl, and I love her! Yes, father, I love her just like a man should love a woman."

My father stares at me with an expression of utter horror. "You can't be serious! What you're saying is… is impossible!" he speaks in a strained voice as if getting the words out of his mouth were a terrible ordeal.

His refusal to understand my reasons and feelings frustrates me beyond reason, and I snap angrily, "Impossible? Why, father? Why? Why?"

"Because you're also a g…"

He stops and in his face I can read he's been on the verge of saying something he never meant to. "Because I'm also a what?"

"Never mind that," he replies gruffly, and he directs his black eyes back to me, raising a threatening finger. "I ain't gonna say this again, Lou. This is our life, and it's ours… for us alone."

I shake my head. "No! No!"

My father takes a few steps closer and grabs my shoulders. "And no more silliness about girls! You hear me!" I clam up because I can't agree… I won't agree. "I know what's filling your head with stupidity. Those books… those damn books." He points his finger at my small shelf, and at once he strides there.

I panic. "What are you gonna do?"

Pa doesn't reply first. He simply pulls the quilt off my beds, lays it under the shelf, and unceremoniously knocks the books off the shelf. "Have you read Don Quixote and what happened to his beloved books?"

My heart skips a beat. I know what he is referring to. Don Quixote loved his books of chivalry so much that he went crazy from reading and devouring them day and night. His friends and niece believed that the reason of his dementia was the dozens of books piled up in his library, and they decided to burn them to ash in a big bonfire. "No! You can't burn my books! They were Ma's!"

I lunge myself against him, and once again he shoves me strongly and I fall. "Reading all that buck wash is doing you too much harm, and your mother would agree I have a right to destroy the cause of the evil in you." As he talks, he gathers the edges of my quilt, lifting the books in it.

"No! Please no!" I cry as I scramble to my feet and stumble after him. Yet, he's ahead of me and the door slams close before my very nose. I bump against it, and as my hand reaches for the knob, I hear the lock being turned from outside. "No!" I shout. "Pa, please, no!" I keep calling as my fists pound the wooden surface of the door. My pleas are ignored, and all I hear is my father's heavy steps moving away. Frustration permeated my whole being, and as it soars, my pleading voice intensifies and my thumps on the door increase in force, so at some point a splinter cracks and breaks the tender skin of my wrist. I don't even notice the fine trickle of blood running down my arm. I just keep calling Pa desperately and pounding at the door. My spirit is barren and scorches in pain. My strength fails me, and my voice becomes almost non-existent. The tears that my father always frowns upon and bans come unleashed, and feeling as if the weight of my soul is unbearable, I fall to my knees and start sobbing. I don't care what he says or how a man should behave. My pain burns me inside, and I need to cry… I just need to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

_Lou_

The acrid smell of char still lingers in the air even though three days have passed since my father burned all my books. From the tiny window in my bedroom I watched him build a bonfire in the middle of our yard and one by one he tossed my beloved books into the devouring pit. I begged, pleaded and implored him but he didn't even acknowledge I was there at all, and kept going as if all he could hear was the raging flames and his heavy steps. I hoped he would forget about the other books we have in the small study, but to my dismay Pa is very thorough in everything he does, and he hunted for every single volume in the house. He even found the last book I'd been re-reading and carelessly left in the hayloft. The flames soon devoured and destroyed my only way to escape this prison.

That night I hardly slept a wink as my mind alternated between mourning for my loss and angrily planning a way to stand up against my father. Esther was gone from my thoughts. All I felt was an immense sense of grief and fury. The iniquitous way Pa had treated me burned my soul as devastatingly as the flames had destroyed my books. I couldn't understand how he was so callous with me. I was a good son; I've always obeyed him, worked hard, and there was nothing he could begrudge me. I know it wasn't right of me to lie and deceive him, and there's no excuse for that. My father gave me life, has kept me safe throughout the years, and I've lived quite comfortably all along. However, I feel I can't talk to him about what my heart conceals and longs for. There are so many times he's rebuffed and mocked my aspirations that I can't confide in him. He won't understand me, and I know he doesn't even try to do so. Burning my books was the worst punishment he could impose upon me, and he knows. What he did was beyond cruel, and now another door has been boarded up for me, and I feel my captivity even more deeply.

The morning after our clash, Pa unlocked my door and urged me to get ready for another day. I momentarily considered opposing him and refusing to do his bidding. Yet, I realized that by refusing to leave my bedroom I was simply going against myself. How could I willingly opt for staying in the sparse space of my bedroom when the limits of our farm were already too suffocating for me and keeping me prisoner?

I left my reclusion, but I was still angry and refused to talk to my father. I just couldn't act as if nothing had happened. He had hurt me, and I needed to let him know. Maybe an apology would have softened me, but obviously he didn't think I needed his contrition. In fact, he never mentioned what he had done the day before, and even though he noticed I wasn't speaking he didn't say a word about it.

In the days after Pa saw me with Esther, he became my shadow. He never left me alone, and was continuously by my side as I carried out all my usual chores. Wherever I went, he was there, hovering over me like my conscience. I noticed our mare had disappeared from the barn, but I was too proud and hurt to ask him where Lightning was. And now at night when I turn in, Pa always locks my door. I know he fears I might want to flee, and I can't blame me for thinking that way because that's precisely what has been in my mind. Yet, as the days go by, my anger starts to crumble down. I realize that my rage won't lead me anywhere. I've lost my friend and potential sweetheart forever, and I don't think nothing can set things right. I'm certain that if I come to terms with my reality and accept in my heart this is all I can aspire. I won't go as far as to believe I might be happier, but at least I might feel somehow content and less overwrought. That, though, doesn't mean it's easy for me to forget my frustration and dissatisfaction, but I tell myself I need to make the effort. I'm making myself miserable for desiring something I evidently can't have.

"When on earth are you gonna stop playing this hush-hush game and talk to your father?" Pa asks me as we eat breakfast the morning of the third day. I look up but make no attempt to speak up. "I should be the one to be offended. You lied to me, Lou, remember?"

I bite the inside of my lower lip, silently admitting that he was right to some extent. I might have been at fault, but he also was. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You intentionally went against my wishes. You know I don't want you to talk to strangers."

"Esther ain't…"

Pa doesn't let me finish the thought. "Have I told you I have any wish to talk about that woman?"

I lower my eyes. "No, sir."

"I expect no further mention of her or the matter, is that understood?"

I don't understand; of course, I can't. Actually, I can't comprehend my father's imposing isolation. I've heard countless times that he wants to keep us safe, and he fears my mother's dismal fate may befall us if we ain't careful. Yet, I feel our way of life ain't natural, and I can't help but wonder if there are other reasons why he keeps us hidden… reasons I know nothing about. "Why don't you want me to talk to people?" I muster all my courage and finally ask.

"I told you. It ain't safe."

"Safe for me or for you?" I insist.

His brow furrows, and I know I'm treading on dangerous ground. "What are you saying, boy?"

"It's weird, Pa. The way we keep to ourselves ain't normal. I'm not a child anymore who you can content with a simple explanation. I have a mind of my own, and I often wonder if the reason you won't let me go anywhere or talk to people is that you don't want me to find out something."

My father shakes his head and even guffaws as if I had told him a joke. "Those blasted books have really filled your head with utter nonsense."

His words hurt. Losing my books has opened a sore wound in my heart, which won't heal for a long time. It's not just that they were my way to escape and my solace, but they were the only things I had left from my mother. I don't even remember her, but somehow the books brought me close to her spiritually, and now all that is gone. "I… I just thought…"

"I don't keep any secrets from you, Lou. My only sin is that I love you, my son, and I've always done my hardest to give you everything you need and deserve. All I want is for you to be happy and safe. If procuring your welfare makes me a bad father, I'm sorry, but I don't know to do it any better."

I keep quiet and cast my eyes down. What Pa says moves me to almost tears. I know he loves me and wants the best for me. His words resound in my mind, and I cringe inwardly. Am I so selfish that I'm unable to appreciate everything my father has done and does for me? I should be grateful and happy, but … why do then I feel so miserable?

* * *

As the day approaches the night, threatening black clouds fill the sky, covering the timid sun with a velvety, gray layer of gloom. The evening greets us as the rain starts pouring down, and when the wind howls and shakes everything in its trail at the same time as claps of thunder roar above, we rush to take shelter in the warmth of our cabin. The forces of nature rattle and buffet our home as I light and bring to life the flames in the fireplace.

Despite our conversation that morning, I still say little to my father. We have dinner in almost complete silence, and when we finish eating and I wash the dirty crocks and pots, I mutter a silent good night and file for bed. I ain't tired or sleepy, but lately I can't stand being around my father more than necessary. I'm still angry, and when there ain't work between us to fill the time and our silences, I feel uncomfortable.

I lie in my bed with open eyes directed to the ceiling. The heavy rain pelts against my window and the walls in the cabin as the storm keeps thundering deafeningly. Flashes of lightning alternate every few minutes, turning the inside of my bedroom into a game of light and shadows. I hear my father's steps heading for his bedroom and close the door, and an hour later I'm still awake. This is definitely one of the worst storms I remember, and no wonder the animals sound so agitate. I hear our cows moo in obvious fright, and the hens cackle in a pitiful desperate tone.

"It's just a storm," I mutter as if they could hear me. Repeating the words over and over again, I feel my eyes droop and sleep finally places its stake on me. When I wake up the following morning, the noises of the storm are gone and all I can hear are the chirps of birds.

After I dress, Iike every morning I slip out of the house and head for the barn. I'm surprised to find the solid, wooden door open, but I soon find the reason. My father is inside. Yet, something is definitely wrong, and as I take a few steps further into the barn and my eyes get used to the dimness, I blanch. There's blood mixed in the hay all over the floor, and I can even make our newly renovated walls smeared with trickles of a thick substance, which I realize is also blood. Loose feathers are everywhere, and when I come closer to where my father stands, my stomach groans in disgust when I see a nauseating puddle of blood and bleeding, mangled carcasses where our two cows should be. The smell of death is penetrating and a shiver courses all over my spine.

"A pack of coyotes or some other wild animals had a feast last night at our expense," my father says in a solemn voice.

That's why the animals sounded so restless last night, I realize. It wasn't just the storm, and I silently curse myself for not getting out of bed and checking the barn. "We've lost all our animals?"

"Thankfully, I had the insight to place Lightning in the lodge a few days ago."

I nod, relieved. A couple of years ago Pa built a small construction in the forest to store part of our crops and unused tools, but I never thought it could be big enough to house our mare. Losing our cows and hens was definitely a terrible blow, but if Lightning had also been victim to this slaughter, it'd be a real tragedy, at least for me.

"Did you close the barn door last night, Lou?"

My father's voice delves into my running thoughts, and all I manage to utter is a clumsy 'what?'.

"Did you or did you not close the door?"

"But… but that's what _you_ do every night."

"But I asked you last night."

I stop, trying to remember, but my mind is blank. "No, you didn't, Pa."

"Are we gonna argue about this too, Lou?" my father replies, sounded as if he were making use of his infinite patience with me.

"You didn't ask me, Pa. Don't blame me for this because it ain't my fault."

"All right," he says, and in his voice I can hear he's just going along, but he still believes it was my fault the coyotes attacked our animals. Naturally, I can't protest when he apparently agrees with my words, and I feel frustrated. I do know he never said anything about shutting the barn doors. I'd have remembered that, and I'm completely sure he never asked me.

"Whatever happened last night, the result is, unfortunately, the same. Our poor animals are dead."

I nod, and Pa asks me to rustle up something for breakfast while he cleans up the barn. I call him when the food and coffee is ready, and we eat in silence. Then he returns to complete the task while I check if last night's storm hasn't ruined the traps. It is the first time Pa lets me wander to the forest on my own since the episode with Esther, and it feels refreshing to leave his suffocating control. He asks me to take the shotgunwith me and check any tracks for the coyotes that slaughtered our animals, but naturally, there is nothing to check after last night's torrential rain.

Before I spot the first trap, I hear a very familiar whimper: a victim. As I turn my eyes down to the trap, skillfully hidden behind a tree stump, I see the poor creature between the metal jaws of its approaching death. It is a raccoon, and the deadly snare has only caught its leg. As I come closer, its fearful, small eyes lift and stare at me. I can feel the poor animal's panic and despair, and its distressed whimpering stirs something within me. I don't normally feel bothered when I pick up the animals caught in our traps. It's just our living, and we're just following the rules imposed by nature. The bigger, stronger animals beat the smaller, weaker ones. That's called survival, and Pa and I are part of the system. It's our job, and there's nothing more to consider. Yet, lately and especially today my spirits are low and sensitive, and when I gaze into the raccoon's eyes, it's like looking at myself. All of a sudden, I realize I'm nothing more than a trapped animal, unable to break free and knowing that the snare my life is won't be easy to break free from.

I sigh and kneel before the animal. The raccoon lets out a shriek and kicks its front legs as if that would be enough to escape its prison. The poor animal is frightened. Very carefully I force the trap open and free its legs. Before the raccoon tries to scurry away, I grab it by its front paws and touch the leg the trap has squeezed between its deadly fangs. There's some blood which I wipe with a rag. I always take a sling bag with me in the forest. You never know if something can befall you, and it's better to be prepared in case you have a bad fall or hurt yourself, and after the coyotes' attack last night one can't be too careful.

I clean the raccoon's blood with the rag and I check its leg by gently moving it to a fro. No harm seems to have been inflicted, and when I set the animal down on the ground, it bolts away from my grasp further into the thick of the forest. I smile. At least, one of us is free now. Lucky critter!

It takes me almost an hour to fix the rest of the traps. Debris in the form of twigs, leaves and rocks have covered a few, some others have been left buried in mud, and in some cases I have to set them again as heavier detritus must have activated them and instead of animals, rocks or branches have been caught between their metal fangs.

When I return to our farm, I stop in astonishment when I realize my father has saddled Lightning. He's busy, checking the tack and reins, and I run to him. "Are you riding to Al's camp?" I ask. That's the only place my father ever goes, but I know it's the wrong time of the month. Al won't settle his camp for another couple of weeks.

Pa stops to look at me, but after a second he carries on, hooking the bag we keep animal furs to the saddle horn. "We need to replace the animals we lost last night. Winter's almost here, so before rain leaves paths and roads impassable, I better get myself to town. Did you find any tracks while in the forest?"

I shake my head, but my attention was somewhere else other than the coyotes that attacked us last night. "Are you going to Rock Creek?" I ask, feeling my heart pound in eager anticipation.

"Where else can I go to buy some good animal flesh?" he replied sarcastically. He's holding one of our shotguns now, checking to see if the chamber is loaded.

"Pa, take me with you, please."

My father shakes his head in refusal. "We've already discussed it. I can't risk your safety. The town ain't for a young man like you. Besides, somebody needs to stay and keep things running here. And remember to carry the shotgun with you always. Those coyotes are treacherous animals. And lock the doors at night."

"Please, Pa."

"I don't think it'll take me too long to come back," he carries on. "A couple of days at the most. I might even bring you a little present. "

I don't want a present. I want to travel to town. "Please Pa. Take me with you."

My father doesn't bother to answer to my pleas. With graceful motions he eases onto the mare and picks up the reins. Before he flaps them on Lightning's back, he looks at me. "I hope you won't let me down again while you're here on your own. You know I put all my trust in you, Lou. Please make me proud, and be very careful." And then despite my protests and bleak countenance, he averts his eyes and before I can say anything else, he's gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

_Kid_

It's been a heck of a long, eventful week. Actually, it started quite nicely, or at least, I thought it did. While on a ride I stopped in Seneca for the night. I was tired and, well aware how unwelcoming the bunkhouse at the station was – skin-thin mattresses, dirty sheets, nauseating food – I decided to splurge on a room at the local hotel. My tired bones would definitely thank me later for the luxury of a soft bed and I could even enjoy the pleasure of a hot bath to soak my dog-tired body.

I had already paid for my room when I overheard a conversation at the counter between the hotel clerk and a young lady. The woman seemed to be in a pickle as the hotel apparently had no rooms left for her to stay the night. I took a minute to study the lady. She was beautiful with a long mane of red hair and delicate, porcelain-like skin. She sounded pretty upset, and it sure troubled me to think of her sleeping out in the cold and damp air while I took the last room in town, especially seeing as I had another place to stay, and all. So I did what any gentleman would. I told her to take my room. She put up a fuss for a bit, but after I insisted, she took my key willing enough, and headed on upstairs. I was glad to help her out, but still, I couldn't help asking the clerk for my money back. No such luck, though, and now I'm out a whole buck.

The idea of bunking at the station was a real downturn after my high expectations to enjoy a good night sleep, but what else could I have done? At least, I would treat myself to a nice dinner at the restaurant. I refused to eat the dishwater they call soup and their rubbery steak, which were the likely courses on the menu at the station. I didn't count on seeing the lovely woman from the hotel again, but there she was. After we exchanged a few pleasantries, I invited her to share my table, which she accepted willingly. Her name was Margaret, and we had a nice conversation, but quite brief. Her personality was as attractive as her looks, and my stupid imagination ran wild as I wondered if this random encounter might have a more meaningful sense than its face value.

My luck with women has been in short supply. I guess my job doesn't help my romantic dreams, and I believe I still haven't found the woman who would mean a difference in my life. There's somebody in Rock Creek. Her name is Debbie, but unfortunately, she already has a suitor, and even though I long for her and believe she and I could be perfect for each other, I need to look somewhere else. Debbie belongs to someone else, and I'm sure there's somebody else out there for me. I really hope one day I might find that woman… the one and only. I believe that when I meet her, I'll know she's the one for me.

I didn't delude myself with fantasies about Margaret, at least, not for long. We were both passing travelers, strangers meeting by chance. What were the odds we would bump into each other again? Looking back now, I realize they were more than I thought, but luck or destiny had nothing to do with it. It was a well-orchestrated scheme, I know now.

Dinner was cut short when Margaret complained she was feeling unwell. I tried to act courteous and escort her back to her room, but she wouldn't have any of that. She excused herself, and before she went, she gave me a small book of poems as a token of appreciation for the matter with the room. Before I could even say a word, she was gone.

Little did I know that the dull book would bring me more problems than pleasure. The little volume ended up being some kind of code for Southern supporters, Margaret a spy, and the boys and I wound up involved in a matter that had little to do with us and almost got us killed. Blasted book! I have to agree with Jimmy here; books and reading are dangerous stuff. I know he's quite against all kinds of literature after the book which that Marcus fella wrote about him transformed his life and made up his fake reputation. _'We'd be better without books, and for all I care they could all burn in hell,'_ Jimmy said once not long after the episode with Marcus, and right now I feel that if Margaret's book had gone to the pyre, it'd have spared us a lot of trouble.

Thankfully, the matter is over, and now we're all busy helping rebuild the schoolhouse. A few days ago, there was a fire in the school, devouring the building and killing the kind old teacher. The whole town has chipped in to give a hand in bringing to life a new schoolhouse, and the structure has already been put up, so it won't take long for the whole thing to be finished, and for children to return to their lessons. Rachel's going to be the new teacher, and she's quite excited. At first, she was reluctant to accept the job, justifying her lack of schooling and formal education, especially when Tompkins and a few locals turned their noses on her. However, thanks to Teaspoon's witty intervention everybody seems happy to have her teaching Rock Creek's children.

"Will you boys drive to Tompkins with me? We need some provisions," Rachel asks this morning.

Buck is on a ride today, and Noah is out of town for the day since he has some time off. That just leaves Cody, Jimmy and myself at the station. Rachel's question is actually a statement, so none of us reply. Cody entertains our breakfast with his usual exaggerated accounts, which normally include a lady in distress he has seemingly fallen in desperate love with and an oral display of his many supernatural skills. We all hear him half-heartedly, but I admit his stories, albeit exaggerated and sparse in truth, are a good excuse to enjoy a laugh.

After the morning chores, I hitch up the wagon to go to town. It's a short walk to Tompkins', but if Rachel has asked us to drive her there, it means she plans to raid the store at the very least, which means we'll need the wagon to transport the heaps of provisions we'll buy.

The store is busy as usual when we slip inside later. Tompkins is carefully arranging a pile of cans in the middle and greets us in his rough, stern manner. There are also three ladies inside, who I know from town, and there is a man I've never seen before. His plain dusty clothes prove that he's the passing type, maybe a drifter or a trader of some kind.

Rachel hands us a scrap of paper with a long list, and we set about to locate everything around the store. I can hear Rachel talking to the women about the school house. Rachel's voice can't hide how delighted she is to take up her new role as Rock Creek's teacher. The women, who apparently have young children, express their worries about all the school time their offspring are losing. Rachel tries to appease them and assures them that lessons will be resumed as soon as the schoolhouse is complete.

The tinkling bell announcing another customer pings softly and I smile when I see Teaspoon make his entrance. He must have seen our wagon outside and is coming to help. Being the marshal takes up a big part of his time, but he does his best not to neglect his duties as the station master. I suspect he's occasionally found himself in the dilemma of chucking one of his jobs. The marshal's badge fell on him almost accidentally, and it was supposed to be something temporary, but now it seems it's turned out into a steady position. I know Teaspoon loves marshalling and feels he's doing something important for his fellow citizens, so I don't think he'll be quitting any time soon. And working for the Pony Express might not be the best job in the world, but he's adopted his role as the patriarch of our makeshift family seriously, and resigning and letting somebody else fill his shoes must feel too close and personal, and I doubt he'll do that either.

Teaspoon greets the ladies in his particular, flamboyant manner, and marches straight to where we stand.

"Hey, Teaspoon!" Cody greets him, and Jimmy and I come to gather around our boss. He stops and rests his hands on his hips, and I know then he means business.

"Did you boys fix the corral boards that the new bronco splintered yesterday?"

We exchange a guilty look. Last night Teaspoon insisted we had to undertake the task at once, but we haven't had the time to get down to it yet.

"I clearly told ya to fix the corral this mornin', didn't I?"

"Teaspoon," Jimmy retorts in a miffed tone, "Buck and Noah are away, and we've already been running short since Ike died. It's just three of us to see to everything. This morning we've mucked out the stables, changed the stall beds, and replenished the troughs, which you know we can't neglect or you'd have our hides."

"And we couldn't say no to Rachel when she asked us to come to Tompkins," I dare to add.

"I see," Teaspoon mumbles in a way that implies the opposite.

"You should hire another rider," Cody suggests. "Jesse ain't pulling his weight at the station as he said he would."

"Leave Jesse out of this," Teaspoon replies. "He doesn't work for the Pony Express or is paid for it. That's your job."

"Then hire another rider," Jimmy echoes Cody's words, and I agree with a nod.

"We don't need another rider. You know the rides are dwindlin'."

"But we have the same amount of work at the station," Jimmy points out rightly.

Teaspoon nods his head. "Just let me think about it, all right?"

We finish hunting for the rest of the things on Rachel's list and take them to the counter. As Tompkins goes through every item and works out the sum we'll have to pay him, he tilts his head in greeting at a newcomer. I don't bother to check who the new visitor is, but then a rough, loud voice startles me and piques my curiosity.

"Merciful God, am I hallucinating or still dreaming?"

I threw a glimpse behind my back and recognize the man. It's the peddler, the one called Al. He ain't one of the citizens, but he's a usual visitor in Rock Creek, especially in the bad weather. His disheveled, messy figure more often than not is found in the saloon as he treats himself to his two passions: whisky and women. The combination of alcohol and wantonness doesn't do him much good, and I know he's been a guest in Teaspoon's cells more than once.

"I'll be damned!" Al exclaims as he slaps the man I've noticed in the store before on the back. "Who could've thought I'd seen the day I'll find you among us civilized folks?"

I turn my attention to Tompkins behind the counter, but nobody can help but overhear the conversation between the two men. The stranger talks in a low voice, but even so, we still get wind of his words. He talks about an attack of coyotes on his property, but he doesn't give many details. "I already know a fella, who is ready to sell me the cattle and fowls I need in exchange for my good furs. You know, Al, they're worth good money. I'm collecting the animals tomorrow."

"Coyotes are nasty creatures," Al remarks in an absent voice, and then his words divert in another direction. "And the boy? Didn't you bring him along?"

"Lou's fine. He doesn't like going anywhere he ain't familiar with. Besides, I couldn't leave the farm alone, could I?"

"You know your business," Al mutters. The stranger mumbles a few words I can't hear and leaves the store. Al comes closer to the counter and stops behind our small crowd.

"Who's your friend?" Tompkins asks without preambles. "I'd never seen him before today."

"I expect you hadn't," Al agrees, and as I look around, I realize that all eyes are fixed on the peddler. The women don't try to hide their curiosity, and my friends clearly want to hear what Al has to say about the visitor. I have to admit I'm curious too. Tompkins' store is definitely the headquarters for gossip and information. If you need to know something or want some rumor to be spread, all you have to do is to drop by the mercantile.

"That's John Boggs. He lives up there in the mountains; I ain't sure about the exact location. He's very particular in his personal matters, and he won't have any busybodies around or asking him questions. As far as I know, he only leaves his lair when he needs some of my goods."

"He sounds like a hermit," Teaspoon remarks.

"I guess he is, but he doesn't live alone. He has a son," Al adds.

"A child?" one of the women asks.

"He can't be a child anymore. I imagine he must be at least fifteen now, but he ain't a normal boy."

"What do you mean?" asks Cody, who never fails to get interested in any piece of morbid gossip he can learn.

"The boy's a half-wit," Al says, tapping his index finger on his head. "Or at least, I gather as much. Boggs used to bring him with him when the boy was a wee mite. I never heard him say a word, and he just looked at me and everything else with big eyes as if he were from another planet. That was years ago. Boggs now comes to my camp alone, and he's never too eager to talk about his boy, and I can't blame him. I would be reluctant to say anything if my child was also a simpleton."

"And the mother?" Rachel asks this time.

"Dead. I ain't sure of the details, but I suspect it was a nasty business. She probably died in childbirth, and with the boy being far from normal, it must have been a hard blow. No wonder Boggs stays hidden up there." Al pauses, and then adds, "I keep thinking that what he needs is another woman. I'm sure that'd do him a whole lot of good."

"He's still young and not bad-looking," another of the local women said, blushing as she got a few raised eyebrows from her friends.

"But what sane woman would be ready to live away from everybody and everything and look after an idiot?" Al exclaims. "Not even a desperate spinster would trade her life for marriage in this case."

"That's true," Tompkins agrees.

No one says another word, and after Rachel pays Tompkins, we file out of the store. Teaspoon helps us load the wagon, and I see Al step out of the store. I definitely don't like the man at all. The way he talked about his friend's son spoke for itself. That man is despicable if he dares to scorn a poor, sick boy like that. I still fondly remember Danny, and how people in Sweetwater tried to murder him just because he was different and that was reason enough for everybody to blame him for bringing the cholera that had started in town and killed a bunch of people. Danny was a sweet boy who needed love and comprehension, not the hatred of bigoted people. How can anybody judge others who had the misfortune to be born with a flaw?

My outrage made me follow Al with my eyes. The mountain man, Boggs, is in the walkway, and Al calls and beckons him to stop for him. When Al reaches them, they start talking, and I see Al gesturing towards the end of the street. Boggs has a solemn expression on his face as he nods. Al laughs and slaps him on the back. They resume walking and Al wraps his arm around Boggs' shoulders as if they were regular friends, and I finally see the pair stop at the end of the walkway and disappear into the saloon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

_Lou_

My heart races and my throat contracts in anguish. There's something wrong, very wrong. I just know. That sound… that horrible screech makes me shiver and my face cringes. It's a piercing, metal sound that plunges into my heart like a double-edged dagger which frightens me to death. I don't know where it comes from and I desperately try to locate its source.

My eyes wander and fall on a discarded shape a few feet away. I shudder again and my teeth chatter as I stare petrified at the sight. A corpse. There's a corpse on the porch. A dead body. I try to close my eyes, but I can't, and somehow the shape gradually becomes clearer and clearer. Relieved, I realize that it's only a doll… a china doll lying on the wooden floor. Its pale, porcelain face is cracked and one of its legs has come apart. I long to move and pick it up, and my arms rise in unison. Yet, something restrains my motions, and a pressure clamps my neck, but I can't see what it is. All I know is that some force pushes me from behind and compels me to look downwards.

The distressing noise still resounds disturbingly close, but I smile when my gaze strangely spots flowers. There's a whole field of white, tiny daisies just under my eyes. There are lots of them, and what stuns me is that they sit on a blue field. I've never seen blue land or grass before, and my hands yearn to touch it. My itchy fingers come closer, but stop in mid air. My body bristles in horror. Something's falling from above; black, coiling shapes land on the blue field, and I can feel them all over myself too. I'm overwhelmed and disgusted. Hundreds of dark revolting worms are dropping from the sky, and they are everywhere, on my face, on my arms, on my hands… "No!" I cry loudly as tears moist my eyes. "No!" I keep shrieking and I still hear the perturbing screech that hasn't stopped for one single moment. Now it's so close by. I know I'm gonna be sick, and my whole body writhes. My skin protests and feels as if I were burning. I try to close my eyes again, but I still can't, and continue watching in horror those creeping worms. Suddenly, the metal, disturbing sound stops and no more worms are falling from the sky. Scared and still crying, I tilt my head and look upwards. My father's face pops up, startling me. "All done now, Lou."

"No!" the cry leaves my lips and my eyes open, noticing the darkness that surrounds me. I sit up in bed and try to calm down. My heart is still pounding and my skin is covered in sweat. The dream has rattled me more than usual. It's a nightmare that has repeatedly haunted me over the years. It's like a scene in a play stuck in my mind, and every time it's the same: the horrible, screeching noise, the broken doll, the daisies and the worms. I always wake when Pa's face appears. I don't know why this dream upsets me so much because it ain't so horrible, but for some reason it does. I've never told my father about it. I can't really explain it, but just thinking about it leaves an uncomfortable, distressing sensation in my innards, and I don't think I could get a word out even if I tried to talk about it. Once when Pa read the Bible passage about Joseph and his interpretation of the Pharaoh's dream I asked him if dreams actually have a meaning and can even predict the future. Pa said that if the Bible said so, it must be true. I can't figure out what my horrible dream can mean, or if it's some kind of warning about what is to come.

I flop onto the bed again, but I know I won't be able to get much shuteye. My wide awake eyes stare upwards in the darkness. I wonder how my father's getting on in Rock Creek. I mope once again, lamenting to have been left marooned here. I wish he could have taken me. It should have been my best chance to cross the limits of my isolation, and now I'm afraid the notion that one day my father will let me ride out of here is just a fantasy. That'll never happen, but… he won't be able to stop me forever, will he?

A noise startles me, and I jerk to a sitting position again. In the silence of the night sounds multiply, and one is likely to hear what during the day we are deaf to. The sound is unmistakable. Howling and growling can only mean that there are wild animals out there… probably the coyotes that attacked us yesterday. I creep out of bed and pull my window shutter open. There's a full moon, casting its dim light to the earth below. I rub my eyes, and as I look out of the window, my heart skips a beat as I notice some movement in the yard. Fear squeezes my spirit tightly when I spot two big animals, yowling and gnarling as they seem to be exploring every inch of our yard. I realize that they're wolves, and not coyotes as my father believed. We've never had problems with predators before, but just hearing the word wolf is enough to make me tremble and sweat.

Fearfully I realize that my window is half open, and in my haste and panic I clumsily shut it with a loud thud. The motion catches the animals' attention, and to my horror I notice the wolves turn their piercing eyes to my window. In a flash they bolt in my direction, and I squat, sinking to the floor and shivering like a leaf. There's a strong thud above me as the wolves bump against the window. Their growls and grunts sound to my ears as if they were avid for some fresh meat, and the scratching of their paws against the glass pane tells me they're trying to get to me. My hands cover my ears to deafen the noises, and my mind fills with the gory images of blood and bones left in the barn I saw yesterday.

My teeth are chattering and my whole body is shuddering. Will the wolves eventually leave or will they persevere until they find a way to trespass and attack me? Is my destiny to end up as the prey of two hungry wolves? Will my grave be the stomach of these animals? Why did Pa have to up and leave me alone?

As soon as I think of my father, I feel ashamed of myself. This is my home and I need to show I'm no wimp. I'm a man, and I have to muster up the courage to defend myself and my place. My legs feel wobbly because I'm still afraid. Yet, I won't let fear cow me. I abandon my ducked position and rush in the dark to find my shotgun. I stop in my tracks, wondering if I might have left it outside when I ventured to the forest this morning. Thankfully, that's not the case, and I breathe relieved when I spot the gun, propped against the door.

With trembling hands I check if the chamber is loaded, which it is, and then I shove the only two cartridges left in the pocket of my jacket as I put it on. I keep still for a moment, hoping that the wolves have left. Unfortunately, I can hear them outside. I breathe deeply before I grab and turn the doorknob. _'You can do it, Lou. Be a man,'_ I tell myself, parroting what my father often says, and I take a tentative step outside.

I balance the gun on my hip and shoot twice skyward. I have no intention to hurt the animals, just spook them away. Soon I realize my mistake. The shots have brought attention upon myself, and to my horror I see the wolves bolting around the cabin towards me at full speed. With trembling hands and a hammering heart I fish one cartridge out of my pocket. I'm so scared and jittery that I seem to have forgotten how to access the chamber of my gun. I can hear the wolves closer and closer, and I know these might be the last minutes of my life if I don't get a grip of myself. I should rush back inside and lock myself up, but for some reason all thoughts are gone from mind as I struggle with the shotgun. I exhale when I finally manage to load it and blindly shoot.

One bullet fails but the other one hits the first wolf straight, and the animal drops, presumably dead. That, though, doesn't stop the second wolf behind him. I'm out of ammunition. The animal leaps over me, and I hold the gun by the double barrel and strike the wolf hard with the butt. The animal yelps, and its grunts don't sound menacing now, but querulous. Finally, letting out a weak yip, it spins around and careers away.

I stand on the porch, trembling and squeezing the gun between my hands. I fear the wolf may return, but after half an hour or so I believe he's gone. Spent and relieved, I sink onto my knees and the shotgun falls from my hands. For the first time I become aware of what I've done and how close I've been to death. The pressure and fear release their hold on me. Suddenly I'm overcome by powerful sensations that grip my soul, and caught by surprise my eyes well up, and I remain on my knees, rocking to and fro as I sob and cry my eyes out.

* * *

'_Tis better to have loved and lost,_

_Than never to have loved at all.'_

I lean back on my chair and read Lord Tennyson's lines, which I've stamped down on my diary. I nibble the end of my small pencil as I keep thoughtful. It was lucky that Pa didn't try to find my diary and turn it into feed for the flames like the rest of my books. Maybe he doesn't know I still keep a journal, or he simply believes it hasn't done as much harm as he states my books have caused. At least, I can record my thoughts and relieve my frustration in its pages. And now I plan to write the lines I love and remember from my beloved books, and the outlines of the plots of my novels. That way I can still immerse myself in those worlds whenever I have time away from Pa.

Last night was so scary. I can't believe I faced those terrifying wolves on my own. Pa'll probably say it was foolish of me to risk my safety that way. Maybe he's right, but the incident has boosted my confidence and despite the terror I experienced, I feel more grown up today. I don't know if I'll be bothered again by the wolf that ran away, but fortunately, Pa won't be gone for much longer. He said he'd be back in two days, which is tomorrow, and if we get more unwanted night visits, he'll know what to do.

I've skinned the wolf I killed and stored its meat. Pa will surely be proud of me even though I know he'll chide me first. The wolf fur is by far the best catch we've ever had and Pa'll surely get a good deal in exchange. Maybe that alone will let us get as many provisions from Al as a pile of our regular booty, and he'll likely get to gain more than a few coins. Perhaps we might get enough money to get a second horse. Pa used to own his own mare, a lovely pinto called Thunder, but she died last winter. Maybe thanks to the wolf fur he can get himself a new mount, and I can even convince him we could go to town together to pick it up. After all, it was me who killed the wolf, and I deserve a reward. Why shouldn't I have my way in this matter? I never thought I could face two blood-thirsty wolves, and I did it last night. Today after my ordeal I feel I can accomplish anything.

With Pa gone and no animals to look after, there's nothing much to do, and days feel too long. I didn't know it was possible, but I miss my father's presence so much. Despite his strict views and restrictions, I don't feel any freer without him, and I miss hearing his voice and even his lectures. He's everything in my life: a father and a friend. There's nobody else, and Esther's becoming a vague memory with each passing day. Despite my behavior and hurt feelings lately, I have to admit I love Pa more than I'm aware, and I'm thankful to him for being here with me. What would I do then if he weren't in my life?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

_Boggs_

I open my eyes and my whole face scrunches up as my temples throb with a renewed headache. The little sleep I managed to grasp last night hasn't done much to relieve yesterday's intense pain in my head, and to top it all off, the uncomfortable cot my bones got to rest on has made my body stiff. I close and open my eyes several times while I rub my sore neck. An involuntary yawn escapes my mouth, and I slide my legs off the cot. My elbows rest on my thighs and my fingers rake through my hair. I can hardly keep my body under control, and keep shifting on the thin but lumpy mattress I'm sitting on.

After avoiding the sight for these few minutes, I finally dare to behold my new landscape. The cell bars stand imposing before me like a very real frontier between me and the free world. I want to believe this is just a nightmare, and when I wake up, I'll be back at home, comfortably snug in my own surroundings. Yet, I know this ain't no dream, and I'm doomed. My mind refuses to accept what has befallen me. This can't be happening. I just can't stay locked up like a rabid animal. I need to return to Lou, or God only knows what might become of him.

My fidgety body draws the marshal's attention. His sharp eyes stare at me, and I look away. I don't want anybody to see me like this, let alone talk to me. Last night he asked me questions, but I refused to open my mouth, and I reject to speak today. These people know nothing about me or my life. They can all go to hell and leave me alone. This doesn't concern anybody.

As my eyes shift and look down, they fall on the evidence of last night's events, spread all over the front of my shirt. I flinch with regret. Why did I have to follow Al? Why didn't I head for my hotel room right away as it'd been my intention? I'm nothing like a fool, and I'm here just because a blabbering, stupid mouth talked me off the track I should have followed.

The events replay in my mind as I try to find a way out of this mess. None of what happened was my fault, and I should be let to walk free right now. I just did what I had to do… what every honest man would have done. It all started when I ran into Al. I had sorted out my matters early. The cattle breeder I'd been told about sold me the animals, and I was quite happy because I couldn't wait to go back home. Blasted coyotes! They started everything, and if it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't have set foot in Rock Creek at all and got into trouble. Why the hell didn't Lou shut the barn door as I told him to do? Sometimes he boils my blood with his passivity! Stupid boy! If only he knew what mess I'm in the middle of because of him!

After I finished my business, I decided to have a look inside the general store. I'd promised Lou I'd bring him a present, and I was sure he'd appreciate the gesture. He wasn't too pleased when I told him he couldn't come to town with me. He's like a dog with a bone, and won't stop going on and on about this silly idea of his to ride somewhere other than our farm. He doesn't understand how dangerous that can be. If somebody ever found out who he really is, it would be terrible. That almost happened when he made the mistake of befriending that girl! He even believed he was infatuated with her! Ridiculous and extremely dangerous! Thankfully, I got wind of what was going on behind my back, and put a stop to that nonsense before something more serious came to pass. That girl surely put more twaddle in my son's head than it already has. No wonder he's acting so out of character lately. Lou's a mild, obedient child, and not the proud, cocky, rebellious kind he's been the last week.

I shudder, wondering what's gonna happen to him now. He won't be able to survive on his own, and he surely must be looking forward to my return today and my promised present. I never had the chance to buy anything in the end. While I was in the store, I browsed through the different goods on display and tried to find the one which would be fit for a boy like him. Anytime in the past I'd have no doubts and would have bought him a book, but I learned the hard way what harm reading was doing to my son. Those books had filled his head with dangerous notions and wrong ideas about his life. A book couldn't do; I couldn't risk his wellbeing like that. He doesn't need to learn about matters that ain't his concern. He just has to heed me and my teachings, and then everything will be fine.

I stayed in the store for almost twenty minutes, but I couldn't think what my son would like. I wanted something special… something more than clothing. A particular tortoiseshell pocket knife caught my attention, and I was considering buying it when Al approached me. There were other people in the store, and when Al started asking me questions, I noticed the others eavesdropping. I cut the talk short and left. I don't like people in general, and I especially hate gossips poking their big noses where they don't belong.

I had to leave without Lou's present, much to my dismay, but as I walked away, I made a mental note to go back to the store and get him that pocket knife later. I was distracted with my own thoughts and I never heard somebody behind me. It was Al again.

"Where are you going, man?" ha asked me in his rambunctious way, and from where I stood, I could smell his fetid breath. Al ain't the cleanest of men; that's for sure, and I think his unsavory habits have even gotten worse over the years.

"I'm staying at the hotel tonight," I simply said.

"But you'll surely have to eat some dinner and drink some good whisky to wash it down, won't you?"

The idea was tempting. I was hungry, and I admit I like a tipple from time to time. Once or twice I tried to produce my own liquor, but both times I failed and the concoction I came up with was barely drinkable. So occasionally I buy a bottle from Al, a pleasure I keep hidden from Lou because I don't want him to smell a drop of alcohol.

I nodded and agreed to join Al for dinner. We made our way down the street, and when Al stopped and motioned me to follow him into the saloon, I hesitated. Years ago when I was a bachelor, I was no stranger to the local saloon, and even when I married Mary Louise, I occasionally dropped by, especially when there were good perspectives for a business. Men talk shop better when our throats get lavished with good whisky.

The loud music and voices brought back memories as I stood at the door. Temptation had a strong grip on me, but for some reason I was reluctant to take further steps. Now I wish I had turned on my heel and gone the other way. Yet, I eventually found myself following Al into the place.

The racket inside was deafening and hit me powerfully. My head started to hurt then. I'm so used to the peace and quiet at home that my ears seemingly can't stand the noise now. The music played by a pianola was vibrant and too loud; a group of saloon girls were dancing on a makeshift stage, cheering along, and their stomping feet joined disturbingly the piercing murmur of voices of the crowd inside. I massaged my forehead and turned to Al. "I doubt this is the best place for a nice quiet dinner. If I stay here a single more second, my head's likely to burst."

Al slapped my back and guffawed. "I grant you it ain't the most peaceful place, but you have to overlook that if you want to enjoy other pleasures."

He wriggled his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. I followed his indication to see the sparsely dressed ladies that were flaunting their bodies as if they were fresh meat for hungry dogs. The image revolted me, but I'm a man, and something long forgotten stirred within me. The women were beautiful, so appealing, and even though disgusted with my own feelings, the urges in my soul were stronger than my sense of dignity.

Al must have noticed my lust-filled eyes because he said, "Let's build up our appetite first with some good entertainment. Then we can have dinner. My treat."

"It's… it's been so long," I whispered, my eyes feasting on the image of a particular blonde whose charms let little scope for imagination.

"More the reason to let me treat you to some good old love."

I nodded without averting my eyes from the blonde. Suddenly, a shriek and glass cracking resounded above the noise, and as I shifted my eyes, my attention got drawn to a rough cowboy who was struggling to sit a reluctant saloon girl on his lap. Maybe that was a normal occurrence there because nobody was paying them any heed. Yet, I couldn't remain impassive, and something within me broke. My eyes angrily stared at the dark-haired, petite saloon girl, and all of a sudden, she appeared before me like somebody else. I had the sensation I had traveled back in time, and I was seeing Mary Louise. It was like witnessing the way she had so savagely been killed. Her cries calling my name as she was desecrated and menaced filled my head and it was the only sound I could hear. The music, the voices, and the ruckus had stopped. It was just her wails, her fear, and her desperation that called to me. Panic and utter fury coursed all over my soul. I had to stop them; my wife needed me. Strangely, once again the image before me changed, and it wasn't Mary Louise I was looking at, but my Lou… my innocent, pure flower. My little girl being abused by that clout of a man! My anger was out of control, and I felt an immense desire to kill the bastard that was hurting my daughter.

In a blur I lunged forward, grabbing the man by his collar and hefting him. There were voices with a tinge of concern around me, but I didn't hear what they were actually saying. My fist struck the man's jaw, making him fall against the counter. I was blind and deaf to anything else, and I found my knife in my hand. How I managed to get hold of it, I don't know. My hand didn't even tremble as I resolutely delved the knife into the man's front again and again while shouting, "This is for Mary and Lou!" Blood stained my hand , and I felt rather than saw people pulling me, and I found myself and my arms restrained behind my back.

The man lay on the floor in a puddle of blood, and I swear he looked more dead than alive. There were women crying all around me, and as I turned my eyes to my side, I noticed the woman I first saw being manhandled, but she didn't look like Mary or Lou anymore. She was dark-haired and petite, but she's nothing like my two loves. I don't understand why I thought I had seen my wife or Lou instead of her, and what confused me even more was to see her in tears, looking pathetically at the man I had saved her from. Soon afterwards the marshal and a couple of his deputies appeared, and I don't remember much more, just a vague recollection of being locked up behind these bars.

Voices nearby stop my memories and I look up to see two young men walk into the marshal's office. One is long-haired and is dressed all in black except for his tan vest, and the other one has short light brown hair. I seem to recall they were the deputies from last night, but I ain't sure.

"What do you have for me?" the marshal asks them when he rises to his feet and perches his backside on his desk.

The long-haired man removes his hat and folds his arms before speaking up. "Morgan's holding on. Doc says he might even make it."

"Do you hear that?" the marshal addresses me and walks closer while I lower my eyes, ignoring him.

"He ain't talking yet?" asks a voice I imagine belongs to the short-haired deputy.

The marshal doesn't reply, and I hear his steps echoing as he approaches my cell. "Y'know, you should pray to God almighty Morgan doesn't die, or you'll be facin' a certain death sentence. And if he lives, no one will save ya from spending a bunch of years in jail."

Is this our country's justice? I shouldn't be surprised. The law didn't do anything when Mary Louise was murdered. What should I expect now? Nothing but corrupted lawmen that defend criminals against law-abiding citizens like me. I'm seething with anger and I fear I'm about to lose too much. All I can think of is Lou all alone, and what will happen to him if I'm sent to prison. If I'm not around, my son will be in terrible danger. This shouldn't be happening. It's most unfair, and I can't keep quiet anymore. "You have no right! That oaf was hurting that girl!" I finally bluster, jumping to my feet and grabbing two cell bars tightly in my hands. "I did what any Christian would have done."

"Stabbin' a man three times is a Christian duty?" the marshal asks, and naturally I can hear the irony in his tone.

"You have no idea how far a man like that can go," I retort scornfully. "It ain't fair I get treated like a two-bit criminal. This ain't my place."

"That's somethin' only the judge will say."

"Don't you understand? You can't do this to me!"

The marshal stares at me coldly, but I notice his face softens as he starts to speak again. "Mr. Boggs, you know I can't do anythin'. Your fate now rests on the judge's hands." He pauses, takes a step closer, and adds, "If you're worried about your son, maybe one of my riders can check on him and see if he's all right."

At his words I incense and I feel my face flame. "You leave my son alone! You hear me?"

"I thought you'd like to send word to him that…"

"You hear me? Leave Lou alone! Nobody is to bother him. He knows how to take care of himself, and as long as nobody disturbs him, he's fine!"

"All right, all right," the marshal replies, lifting his hands in surrender. "It was just an idea, but you should start comin' to terms with what's comin' to you. Whether Morgan dies or not, you won't see your son in a long time, and he doesn't know what's happened, does he?"

"That's my problem," I mumble, turning my back to him and concluding the conversation. The marshal is right. Lou has no way of knowing what problems I'm in the middle of. He'll get worried, and I tremble to think what he might do when days go by and he doesn't hear from me. If I could let him know that he should carry on as usual, I'd know he's safe. But I can't trust anybody, and I can't have busybodies, trespassing on my property and, much worse, tangling with Lou's life. This is a danger I can't risk. I just hope Lou has the brains to realize what he has to do. Once I remember mentioning that if I were to die, he should continue the life I started with so much effort all those years ago. Will he recall that conversation? He might think I'm dead if I don't return to him, and I pray to God and all the saints he doesn't try to do that crazy idea of leaving, or that could lead to catastrophe. His life will be in danger, and I fear his destiny will be the same as his poor mother. Oh God, please let him live… just let him live.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

_Lou_

My exploration of the forest has proven barren today too… thankfully. It's been a week since my father left and he's not back yet. He was supposed to return in two days, and a whole week… seven entire days have gone by. It's so odd and worrying. At first, I thought something must have delayed him in town, but now I'm so anxious about his absence. I'm actually fretting. I know something's happened. Pa wouldn't stay away for so long without a good reason.

I shudder, thinking about all the possibilities. After my episode with the wolves, I wonder if Pa could possibly have been attacked on his way to Rock Creek by those very wolves or some other predators. That's why I've been exploring every inch of the forest and the surroundings lately. I fear to find Pa wounded or worse, but fortunately, that hasn't happened so far.

I need to know where Pa is, and I've reached a decision. I'm going to Rock Creek to find my father. If he was in town, somebody must have seen him and could tell me something. I continuously try to come up with logical explanations why Pa's still away… a reason that could soothe my worries and fears. Maybe the purchase of the hens and cows is taking him longer than he thought, but I can't think why. It's been seven days! At night when I'm in bed, the darkest images and scenarios haunt me, and I envision my father bleeding, bruised, and begging for help. His voice fills my head, and I feel there's something he wants to tell me, but I can't hear his words. The notion that he might be ill or hurt who knows where makes me sick with worry. Pa's a strong healthy man, and I don't recall a single time he's suffered from an ailment, but what if somebody assaulted him to steal his furs or the money he must have taken with him? I hope he's at least safe and out of danger. He's all I have in this world, and I can't and won't start imagining some terrible reverse has befallen him.

I can't hold on any longer. Uncertainty is killing me, and the longer I wait, the less help I'll be to Pa. As soon as I pack a few things, I'll be on my way and start my quest. I know Pa wouldn't like my leaving home under normal circumstances. He'd have a fit if I no more than consider walking away, but what can I do now? This is far from being normal. I just can't stay here clueless and afraid when Pa might be in trouble. I've always longed to ride out and see other places and lands, but this ain't the way I hoped I'd be abandoning my reclusion.

In some old saddle bags I shove a change of clothes and fresh long johns. I ain't sure how long I'll be gone, nor do I know how long it'll take me to reach Rock Creek on foot. Since I've never been outside our farm, I have no idea what direction I'll have to follow, but I'll trust my instincts, and let myself be guided by the sun. I think I'll head for the east as that's the way we used to go when I rode with Pa to Al's camp.

I also pack some food, a canteen with water, and Pa's ointment for wounds. Who knows what I may find out there. I try to locate some of my father's money. He usually keeps coins in an old jam jar, but there's nothing there. I think Pa may have another hideout for his dollars, and I seek up and down our cabin, searching closets, cabinets, and drawers, but I don't find any money. The only place I can't access is the drawer in Pa's den, which he keeps locked at all times. Once I asked him what he has inside the drawer, and he told me there were just some documents I shouldn't concern myself about. I imagine he must also keep some money in there. I don't know where the key is, and even though I could force the drawer open easily by means of a knife, I don't dare to do so. Pa'd hit the roof if he found his desk vandalized, and since I ain't totally sure there's money inside, why would I go to that extreme just to find a bunch of old, dog-eared papers? I'll have to make do without a cent, and hopefully, that won't be a problem.

I grab my knife and shove it into the bags. I'm almost ready, but there's something else I need to take hold of first. From our cabinet I pull out a belt with a revolver. It's the gun Pa keeps for emergencies, or so he says, and what is this if not an emergency? I can't take the shotgun with me. I ran out of cartridges the other night, and besides, carrying a heavy weapon like that all the way to Rock Creek would be too cumbersome, and I need to travel as light as possible. I ain't too skilful with the revolver even though my Pa taught me basically how to use it, but a few days of practice can't make me a marksman. At least, carrying the gun will soothe some of my fears; even shooting off mark with the revolver would scare away any animals or people who might want to harm me.

I buckle the belt around my narrow waist, and as I take a few steps, I realize how awkward it'll be to walk with the revolver attached to my hip and leg. That'll have to do because I don't dare to leave it behind. I'm almost ready to go. From the peg next to the door I unhook my coat and hat, and when my head is covered and my body wrapped up, I sweep my eyes around the cabin, checking that everything's in perfect order. When I bring Pa back with me, I want our place to look just the way he likes.

I nod to myself in encouragement. Picking up the saddle bags, I lug them over my shoulder and walk to the door. I step outside and very slowly I shut the door. My adventure starts now, but for some reason my feet remain glued to the porch. I breathe deeply. I'm actually scared. My father's warnings about the outside world and people are etched in my mind, and I fear what I'll have to face up to. "You can do it, Lou. Pa needs you," I say aloud, and inflating my lungs with a new dose of fresh air, I finally take one first step. Another one follows, and then another. Before I realize it, the cabin is far behind me as I walk to meet the world for the first time.

* * *

In the first few hours everything's calm as I advance along the gorge that leads me out of the mountains. My progress is slow as I continuously stop to check there's no sign of my father or Lightning. If he didn't reach Rock Creek in the first place, a possibility might be he fell off a ravine or even had an accident with our horse. Lightning is a mild, obedient mare, but Pa doesn't know how to treat her as well as I do. Maybe she was spooked by a snake or some other small animal and went out of control. That could be a plausible explanation.

So far there's nothing to be seen, fortunately. I might have missed some point… an inaccessible crag my father could easily have fallen into. Yet, Lightning can't be concealed from my sight easily. I even contemplate the idea that some people may have taken my father in if he was found hurt, or some miscreant might even have stolen Lightning if she was found wandering on her own. Yet, I discard the thought. At least, in this area there are no other people, and I doubt there are many passersby.

I'm starting to get tired. I'm lucky it ain't raining or unbearably cold. My feet ain't used to walking so much; the saddle bags now seem to weigh twice as much as when I took off, and the gun against my hip will surely bruise the skin on my thigh.

I sound like a wimp. I guess I'm just trying to distract my mind from worries, and hard as it is to admit it, my fears. I need to stay focused, and think that the sooner I get to town, the sooner I'll get to Pa. All my energy and thoughts should be addressed to helping my father, and I need to forget about any other petty things.

I know there's a stream down the mountains, and when I make it there, I stop for a while. I fill my canteen with fresh water, and sitting on a tree stump close to the bank, I eat a couple of apples and some cornbread. It is so peaceful here, and I feel so… so free that for a moment my mind slips and I forget why I'm out in the open in the first place. I've always wanted to break the chains that imprisoned me even for just a small spell, and now it's happening. This is a treat I need to cherish because when I find Pa and we get back home, who knows if I'll be able to enjoy freedom once again. Maybe this could even be a stroke of good luck. When my father realizes that I can stand on my own without his protection and outside his realm, he will reconsider his rules and bend his control. I'll show him I'm trustworthy and self-sufficient. I ain't a wild weed that needs to be protected. I have my own thorns, and I know well how to use them.

Unexpected sounds break my train of thought, and I scramble to my feet, picking up everything in a flash. As I dash to hide behind a tree, human voices reach my ears closer and closer. From my hideout I finally make out two figures cantering up to the stream. The two men dismount and let their horses drink while they speak in low tones. I can't hear what they're saying, but I'm fascinated by the notion that I'm nearer my destination. It's the first time I run into somebody after hours walking in my own company. I consider for a moment to let my presence be known. I could go up to them and ask if I'm on the right trail to Rock Creek. Yet, I eventually stay put and remain behind the tree. The men look harmless, but I have no reason to trust anybody. I'm no fool, and I know I'm in a vulnerable position out here, so I better avoid coming against anybody while I'm all alone.

I remain in a squatting position behind the tree, spying on the two men. After a few minutes when the horses have quenched their thirst, they're ready to leave. I count up to ten before I dash after their trace. I'll never be able to follow them all the way, but I just want to see what direction they take. These two riders might not be heading for Rock Creek, and I could end up in the wrong place, but that's a risk I'm ready to take.

I can see them ahead of me, cantering abreast as they negotiate the vegetation blocking their way. When the trees peter out to shrubbery, indicating the limits of the forest, the men kick their mounts into a trot that soon becomes a gallop, and all I can see is the cloud of dust they leave behind. Yet, that doesn't matter. The men are going east! That means I was right in the first place… or in the worst case, I've been wrong all along, and I'll be following a false scent.

Since there's no way I can know for sure, all I have to do is to continue. The sun hangs low in the sky, and to my dismay I realize I'll have to spend the night in the open. I have no idea how far I'm from town, and I curse my poor foresight. I should have set off earlier in the day, and maybe I'd be in Rock Creek now. Yet, there's no use to cry over spilled milk. The night will probably be bitterly cold, and I'll have to build a fire that can keep me warm. The prairie I'm in the middle of is hardly welcoming against the inclement weather, but luckily, I spot a copse of trees that can proffer me shelter during the night.

Once the fire is roaring and I have a sparse dinner, I lie down on the hard ground The night is certainly chilly, so I stay close to the bonfire since I have no blanket or other means to keep warm. It's difficult to find a comfortable position, and I feel the irregular bumps of the terrain delve into my skin, but I don't care. The uplifting feeling I've had since the morning hasn't deserted me. I'm still worried about Pa, naturally, but I tell myself it doesn't help anybody if I work myself into a frenzy when there's nothing I can do. Instead, I lie there, staring at the thousands of stars above, and my eyes gradually droop, and I finally drift into sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

_Lou_

The first rays of the sun awake me the following morning. My back complains after spending the night on the hard ground. The fire is dead, and I feel the cold penetrate my skin and my bones. I rub my hands together and blow on them, trying to warm myself. I rummage in the saddle bags and hunt for a piece of jerky which I devour immediately. I wish I could drink some hot coffee to comfort my cold, empty stomach, but for the time being I'll have to make do without it.

I'm soon on my way. There are black clouds hanging on the horizon, and I just hope rain doesn't catch me out here unawares. The morning rolls on, and fortunately, the menacing clouds have dispersed and the sun has come up. I imagine it is mid-day when I see the first buildings in the distance. I've gone by a few lonely farms, but what I now see is Rock Creek… finally. My heart starts thumping at full speed and my steps quicken. I literally break into a run, eager to reach my destination. I'm almost there… I'm almost there.

My feet stop short when I get in the way of a wagon and the hitched-up horse almost knocks me down. The gray-haired man who's driving it angrily starts hurling rebukes, and I mumble a shy sorry. The man spits as he flaps the reins on the animal's back, but before he drives on, there's something I need to ask. "Sir, is this town Rock Creek?"

He's still riled and groans something I take for a yes, and without another word he carries on his way. I don't even have the chance to thank him, and my heart swells with pride and relief. I'm really in Rock Creek. I resume walking, and when I'm in the confines of the city, I stop to have my first look. The image before me thrills me beyond words. Horses and carriages mingle as they move up and down the streets, and there are people everywhere. I've never seen so much activity… so much life before, and I watch fascinated. And there's so much noise. The horses whinny, the carriages rumble and clank, the chatter of people rumble, and I even think the ground under my feet also has a voice of its own. Everywhere I look, I find a new source of sound: doors slamming close, the branches of a lonely tree swaying in the breeze, the clang of a hammer hitting an anvil… Everything is alive and I just love it.

I get another remonstration from a rider when his mount almost stumbles upon me. Before I risk running against another horse, I scurried to take shelter in the walkway. It's strange, but now that I'm here, I'm neither afraid nor nervous. It's as if I were in the middle of a dream, and I'm hardly aware of what this means or where I am.

I slowly saunter along the covered passage, and my eyes study everything and everybody in fascination. As I take further steps I behold the different buildings and read the signs above their doors: the bank, the general store, the undertaker's… I read the name of one of the establishments. The Wild Horse Saloon. I notice there are several women before its façade. Unlike the other ladies I've already come across, they're dressed and standing in such a fashion that it draws my attention. The fabric of their blouses look thin, and leave their arms bare as well as part of their upper fronts. How can they wear those flimsy blouses when it's freezing today? I'm wrapped in several layers and I can feel the cold in my face and hands. Some gentlemen are in conversation with a few of those ladies, and unlike the women they wear thick coats. The gay expression of the women's faces let me think that they're not bothered by how cold it is today. I wonder what kind of place the saloon is. It must be a nice store if both men and ladies look pleased, and when I see a woman hook her arm around a man's as they go inside, they are smiling from ear to ear. I'm really curious. Maybe I can have a look inside later, but now I need to get a move on.

I resume walking, and when I reach the end of the street, a metallic, repetitive ring starts to reverberate. I try to locate where the cheerful peal comes from, and I lift my eyes and see a big bell jiggling in joyful tone. Then the building doors open and suddenly, a loud crowd thunders out. My first thought that comes to my mind is that these people are quite short. The idea is totally ridiculous when it dawns on me that I'm just seeing children… children of all ages and heights who scatter around the fenced yard. Some boys start playing with a round ball, a few girls jump and leap over a rope that two of them move in round motions, and some other children simply sit in groups and eat sandwiches or fruit they take out of some kind of small pails. Other than myself, I've never seen children before, and I look at them now with big eyes. There are a few that are so tiny, and it's amazing to see them play, run or jump. I've seen baby animals in the forest, but I don't know why the image of these children captivates me so much. I don't remember much about the time I was a kid, especially what I looked like or how tall I was, and let's be honest, it's not as if I'm a giant now.

My attention is so absorbed by the children that I never notice a presence by my side. Somebody clearing their throat snaps me out of my torpor, and when I look up, there's a blonde woman before me. She's smiling when she speaks. "Anything I can do for you?"

I ain't sure how to respond and I stutter before I manage to say, "Uh… no."

"Are you here to see one of my pupils or maybe you want to come to my school too?"

The school. Of course. How didn't I think of it before? Naturally while I was growing up, I never went to the school. We've always been too far from town, and Pa always taught me everything I needed to learn. "Uh... I don't go to school. I don't need to."

"Are you sure? You must be about the same age as some of my older students, and your parents should know that school is important," the teacher insists in a pleasant manner. I sweep my eyes around the yard, because for a moment I imagine myself attending school, and that doesn't sound too bad. I love learning and books.

The idea, though, vanishes immediately and is replaced by annoyance. Once again like with Esther, I'm taken for nothing but a child, and that irritates me. I'm no child. Why can't people see it? Is this the reason why Pa's so overprotective? Because even he thinks I'm still a kid?

"I'm older than I look," I reply gruffly. "I'm not a child."

The teacher giggles and says, "Oh you remind me so much of Jesse. He's one of my students," she explains, pointing at a gangly, tall boy who's talking to a girl near the school entrance. "He's so intent to prove to everybody he's no kid that he gets in trouble more often than that." She stops and adds, "I know thirteen or fourteen-year-old boys like you and Jesse are no children, but you shouldn't be in such a hurry to be men because the time will come eventually."

The boy she refers to as Jesse is taller and broader than me, I have to admit, but being on the small side doesn't mean people have to assume I'm still an infant. My irritation soars as I turn my eyes back to the teacher. "I told you. I'm older. I'm seventeen years old! Not thirteen! I can read, write and more than that!"

The teacher frowns as she seems to study my face, and as I stare at her with an unfriendly scowl, she smiles apologetically. "You look very young. Sorry if I offended you." She pauses and adds, "By the way, my name's Rachel Dunne."

The woman stretches her hand to me, and I know this is my cue to show my manners. This time I'll have it right… not like when I first met Esther. So I gently hold her hand in mine, and my right leg flexes in some kind of curtsey as I kiss her hand. "My name's Lou and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma'am."

As I lift my eyes to her, she's smiling, but the kind of smile you favor when you're trying to smother laughter, and I wonder what I've done that she might think so funny. "You're a little charmer, I see."

I ain't sure how to respond to her words, or how to take them. In any case, it's time I depart. I'm already wasting some of the time I should be devoting to track down my father. Where I should start looking, I don't know, but I do know it ain't the school. I'm about to take my leave, but before I open my mouth to speak, I'm saved by a ruckus coming from the yard. A group of young boys are arguing loudly, and they look as if they are ready to get into a violent squabble.

"I'm sorry, Lou, but duty is calling. It was nice meeting you."

Mrs. Dunne rushes to the boys, and I watch her energetically put a stop to the fight. Then her tone mellows and even though I can't hear her words, I can feel her tenderness, her comprehension despite what has happened minutes ago. I smile, thinking that she must be an excellent teacher, one whose lessons I'd have liked to attend when I was a child. I wonder if Mrs. Dunne is also a mother, but I can well imagine her with a passel of very lucky children. Oh I just wish I were lucky too.

Where has that come from? I ask myself as I walk away. I don't usually let myself think about my mother, or rather her absence in my life. Yet, from time to time I wonder how different things would be if she hadn't died. It's strange. I don't have any recollections of her, but I do miss my ma. How can you miss someone you don't even remember? No idea, but I just know that I do. However, I don't allow myself to linger on the feeling too much. There's no reason for me to moan. I'm luckier than many who have been left orphaned and alone. I still have my father, and I shouldn't complain. I'm fortunate to have him in my life.

As I think of Pa, I haste in my gait. No more dawdling and nonsense. I need to find my father. I'll start by locating the town's doctor and also the minister. They might guide me in the right direction, or even tell me who may know something about my father. My mind reels as I order my thoughts and think of a plan of action. Suddenly, my feet halt and a cry leaves my lips. "Lightning!"

There she is, quietly grazing in an enclosed corral in the local stables. There are more horses, divided into two groups. I imagine males and females are being kept apart. Pa once told me that we've never owned male animals because that'd mean that eventually we'd end up with the females breeding. That would apparently be too much fuss, and we couldn't afford to have more animals than we were ready to take care of. He had a point there; we don't neglect our animals and we don't have enough space to keep males and females apart.

Lightning being here means that my father isn't far. I approach her, and she instantly licks my hand, hoping to find the treat I always have for her. "Sorry, girl, but I have nothing today." I duck and scramble between the boards of the fence to get to the other side of the corral. Standing next to my mare, I stroke her neck. "Where's Pa, Lightning?"

"Hey, you!"

I turn to the voice interjecting me, and see a bearded man, holding a rake and glaring at me. As I stand silent, looking at him, the man takes a few mincing steps closer to me, and I flinch back. He drops the rake and his hand reaches for my arm as he snaps, "What are you doing in my corral and tampering with my horses?"

I shrug his hand off my arm. His horses? I don't know about the other animals, but Lightning is mine. The man's manners and his stupid accusation irks me, but I remain calm as I say, "This is my mare."

My words seem to catch his attention, and his tone is less aggressive when he speaks again. "What nonsense are you sayin'? That hack belongs to a tall, spindly fella that…"

"My father," I cut in, eager to get down to business and find out about my pa's whereabouts. "I'm looking for him. Can you tell me where he is?"

"He left the horse in my stables a week ago and…"

"You haven't heard from him since then?" I exclaim in alarm.

The stable owner lowers his eyes. "Not exactly."

"Then what?"

The man meets my anxious eyes as he says, "You should talk to the marshal. He'll tell you about your father."

I hear nothing else as I bolt out of the enclosed corral. I blindly run down the street, eagerly trying to locate the marshal wherever he is. I'm closer to know where my father is, and somehow the idea has my stomach in knots. I'm scared to find out why pa hasn't returned to me, but I need to know.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

_Lou_

I slow my steps as I approach the marshal's office. It takes me a few minutes to get my breath back. My whole body is trembling in anticipation, and my clumsy, shivery hands seemed unable to remember how to do buttons up as I try to make myself presentable. I slowly climb a couple of steps under the canopy where the office is sheltered. There are big, curtainless windows through which I can see inside. A middle-aged, paunchy man sits at a desk. He has unruly, shoulder-long, grey hair, abundant stubble, and a metal badge is pinned onto the front of his ragged shirt. I ain't sure what lawmen look like, but this aint' what I would have imagined in any case. This man looks more like a poor beggar than a marshal, but anyway, that ain't important. He knows where Pa is, and anything else is irrelevant.

The marshal is leafing through some papers. He ain't alone. A very thin, scraggy man stands behind him, his right arm perched on the back of the marshal's chair. He's also attentive to the papers on the desk.

The glass door to the office is shut, and I read the name imprinted on it: Marshal Aloysius Hunter. I stop before the door, and my knuckles sheepishly knock on the glass surface. The two men lift their heads and look at me with curiosity. The marshal swings his hand to and fro, beckoning me to go in, so I open the door and step inside.

"What can I do for you, son?" the marshal asks me, leaning back on his chair and folding his arms over his protruding stomach.

I remove my hat and smile awkwardly. My hands can't remain still and frantically wriggle the brim of my hat. "Marshal Hunter. I'm looking for a man called John Boggs, and I've heard you could help me."

The marshal shares a wary look with the other man before he asks me, "What is Boggs to you?"

I lift my chin proudly as I state, "He's my father."

The marshal nods, and the other man clumsily pretends he's dropped something onto the floor, and stooping close to the marshal's ear, he whispers something, but his low voice is loud enough for me to hear. "Here's the half-witted son."

"Who the hell are you calling a half-wit, you moron?" I roar in total outrage. I don't normally cuss, especially around my father, but I admit that when I'm angry, coarse language flows easily from my mouth, even when I'm on my own.

"Barnett!" the marshal calls the man in an admonishing tone. "Why don't you go and patrol the streets now?"

The man called Barnett nods and sends me a tame, apologetic look. Yet, I furiously glare at him, and my firey eyes follow him until he walks out.

"Forgive my deputy," the marshal says hesitatingly. "Uh… you know what some people are like, and this is what happens when we let ourselves be misled by the rumor mill."

I grimace and wrinkle my nose in stunned silence. I ain't sure what he's talking about, and I naturally don't know what people are like, but I don't say anything. I'm just thrown by what I've encountered so far. I ain't sure if what my father believes about the dangers of mingling with people is true, but so far my experience among folks hasn't been too positive. In just less than an hour I've been called a kid and a half-wit. What is wrong with people that are ready to judge me so gratuitously?

"Why don't you have a seat and I'll tell ya about your father?"

That steers my attention from my foolish mental ramblings. This is about pa alone, and I can't let myself be distracted by petty matters. I nod at the marshal's offer and I sit while he brings another chair closer to me and lowers in it.

"What… what's happened to my father?" I dare to ask in a strained voice that clearly displays the fear I'm feeling.

"Your father's in good health as far as I know," he says, and I exhale the air I didn't know I was holding. Yet, his next words relive the hot cinders of my worries. "But I'm afraid he got himself into big trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

The marshal takes his time to reply. His hesitation, even for just a few seconds, almost drives me insane. "He… he tried to kill a man," he finally blurts out.

"What?" I exclaim loudly, jumping off the chair as if the seat were scalding my skin. "That's a lie! My father wouldn't harm anybody! He ain't a murderer!"

Marshal Hunter grabs me by the elbow, and without a word invites me to sit again. "Just listen to me, Lou. That's your name, Lou, ain't it?" I nod, but I can hardly remain still and keep fidgeting in my seat, tapping my foot on the floor and wringing my hands. "There are dozens of witnesses who saw him…"

"But he…"

"Just listen to me!" the marshal repeats in a firmer tone. "A fella was manhandling a woman, and your father saw that and attacked him… quite savagely, I have to say."

"But… but he was defending that lady! That means something, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but there was no reason for him to stab this man three times."

I close my eyes at his words as I sigh. "Oh God."

"Thankfully, the fella didn't die, and that girl was ready to speak and testify that your father actually did that in her defense."

This stinks, and I'm afraid to ask, but I have to know. "Where's my father now?"

"In prison," the marshal replies, and his squinting eyes are clearly studying me for my reaction. "The trial was three days ago, and the judge sentenced him to five years"

"Five years!" I exclaim in utter shock; my voice in a distorted shriek.

"He was transported to the Missouri State Penitentiary in Jefferson City yesterday."

"Five years! Five years!" I repeat several times like a mantra, still in disbelief. A motley of emotions are fighting a fierce battle in my insides, and I want to shout, sob and pull at my short hair at the same time. Yet, I do not do anything, and I remain seated, frozen and mumbling incomprehensibly.

"I know it ain't easy, but think that time is actually a relative notion. Time flies, and five years ain't much."

His voice startles me. I'd forgotten his presence for a moment. Sighing, I give him a tired look and say, "I gotta go."

I rise on trembling legs, intending to leave this place that suffocates me. The marshal gets up after me, and I feel his eyes studying me, much in the same way my father usually does. Oh pa! What have you done?

"Are you all right, boy?"

I simply nod and mumble an almost unintelligible thank you before I rush out of the jailhouse. The fresh air I fill my lungs with once I'm out makes me dizzy, and I have to grab a post for support. What Marshal Hunter has told me about Pa is gradually sinking in, and little by little I can envision what dire consequences all this means for me. Pa is in jail and will be there for the next five years. And what about me? I'm all alone now.

Not totally aware of my own motions, I start roaming the streets just like a wandering soul. The years that are to come present themselves like a frightening enigma. Pa has always been there for me, and I've depended on him for everything. How can I face life without him? How can I bear the heavy loneliness of my own company from now on? For a moment a devilish voice whispers that this is the chance I was waiting for that will allow me to leave the mountains and live among other folks. As soon as the thought hits me, I chastise myself sternly for even entertaining the idea. I wouldn't know how to do that when I have no money, and besides, the idea sounds too dishonest and treacherous. Pa's in jail, and here I am, foolishly daydreaming when he's going through hell.

Right now I need to keep my head clear even though my mind is horribly muddled after the shock I've received today. One thing is certain: my father would want me to look after our property and run things as I've been doing till now. There's nothing else to consider. I'll collect Lightning and head for home. It then dawns on me what Pa came to town for in the first place. His intention was to replace the animals the wolves killed. Pa's gone and there's no money or furs to complete the task. I guess I can get by without milk or eggs for a while, and maybe when I gather a good stash of furs, I can return to get the hens and cows we lost.

I direct my steps to the stables, and as a group of young girls pass by me, I suddenly start to think of Esther. The last time we talked she asked me to come and see her in Rock Creek. All I'd need to do is to ask around. So maybe after retrieving Lightning from the stables and before going back home, I can ask after her and give her a surprise.

When I approach the stables, I see Lighting ain't in the corral I saw her in before. Actually, there ain't any other horses in the enclosure. I imagine the owner leaves the animals there while he's mucking out the stalls, and now he must have finished and brought the horses back into the big wooden building. With unwavering determination I march inside and find Lightning in one of the first stalls. Her head pops out as soon as she recognizes me and I stroke her muzzle, sadly realizing that she's all I have now.

"Girl, I'm afraid Pa won't be coming back with us. We're on our own now."

Lightning lets out a whining that to my ear sounds subdued as if she had understood my words, or maybe she can feel my own miserable mood. I lift the latch to open the stall door when I hear running steps behind me. "What do you think you're doin'?"

I turn my head to see the same man who previously admonished me. He has the same unfriendly expression, and I ain't in my best mood myself. "What does it look like to you?" I snap. "I'm taking my horse. I'm going home."

The man stamps his big hand on the stall door, forcing it shut again. "Not before you pay me what you owe me. It's two dollars."

"Two dollars?" I repeat in a hesitant voice. "Two dollars for what?"

"For housing, feeding, and looking after your precious mare. What did you think? That this was a damn almshouse for horses or what?"

"But… but I don't have any money," I stutter, reeling in panic.

"Then the horse stays here," the man says categorically. "And if you don't pay what you owe me in a week, I'll have to sell her."

I'm overcome by a powerful surge of fury and fear. "You can't do that!" I bark loudly; the anger I feel is so overwhelmingly strong that it courses through every inch of my body. "Lightning's mine and you have no right!"

"Pay what you owe then," the man replies in a calm voice. "But if you don't intend to do that, just beat it before I kick you out of here myself."

I try to get a grip of my soaring anger. Shouting and antagonizing this man won't do anything but sink me deeper in the mud. "Listen. A few days ago I hunted a wolf. I still have its fur at home. If you let me ride Lightning to my cabin, I'll bring you the fur tomorrow."

The man scoffs, which wasn't the reaction I hoped for. "Do you really believe I'd let you ride away like that?"

"Yes," I reply truthfully. "You can trust me. That's the way we men are expected to work together to better our world. People trust each other, don't we?"

The man guffaws. "God, you're damn weird!" he mumbles. "I don't even trust my own father!"

I stare at him in shock. His words sound almost heretical to my ears, but for some reason he seems to find them hilarious as he grins coyly. "Please," I beg softly.

"Besides, I don't want a useless wolf fur. I just want my money."

"But you could sell it. I'm sure it's worth more than two dollars," I insist. Actually, I ain't sure at what price furs can be sold. If pa made any money from selling them, he never told me how much, and I wasn't too keen on learning either. Money and its value are alien to me, but I do know that a wolf skin is much better than any of the furs we're used to hunting.

"I said no!"

His negative is followed by a loud rap and a voice I recognize right away. "Any problem here, Scott?"

It's Marshal Hunter, who stands at the door. The light falling over his figure from behind makes him appear like a black shadow to my eyes, but his rough voice and the outline of his body are unmistakable.

"No, no problem, marshal," the stable owner replies. "This young man was just leaving, Weren't you?" he asks me, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

I nod, stifling the anger that runs through my very veins. I angrily spin around and bolt out of the stables, not sparing a single look in the marshal's direction when I whizz past him. Outside I flop on a bale of hay, defeated and miserable. My head comes to land on my flexed hands and my eyes miserably glance down at the toes of my very dusty boots. I can't leave Lightning! That brute of a man has no right! I can't just lose pa and Lightning on the same day. The dismal reality I'm immersed in is starting to take its toll on my already mournful mood, and my eyes sting as I feel an intense urge to cry. _'Men don't cry,'_ I silently repeat the words Pa has told me so many times. _'Men face their problems; they don't whimper like babies.' _I know that, but how can I face up to my problems when I don't know what direction to follow? What can I do now?

A shadow falls over me blocking the sun, and I look up to see Marshal Hunter standing before my huddled frame. "I was lookin' for ya," he says. "You forgot your things in my office."

He places the saddle bags at my feet. My mind must really be tangled and in chaos because I never noticed I didn't have my things with me. "Thanks," I whisper, picking up the bags and hugging them against my chest. I'm hoping the marshal leaves me alone, but to my dismay and irritation he sits on the bale next to me.

"I wonder if I can help you with somethin', Lou. You look like you could do with a friendly hand."

"This ain't your problem," I bristle.

"That's right, and because it ain't my problem, I'm in a position to help ya. Or at least, I can be the ear you can unload yourself. You know nothin' about me, that's true, but sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger than to your family and friends."

I sigh. "This has been the worst day in my whole life!" I finally exclaim. I have nothing to lose, and it's true I need the urge to let the world know what I'm going through. I end up telling the marshal about my intentions to go home, and also about Lightning, and my lack of money.

The marshal nods slowly after I finish. He keeps thoughtful for a while as if considering everything I've told him. "So if you had your horse, you'd return to your cabin in the mountains. Is that right?"

"That's what my father would want me to do. I'll have to walk all the way back home now, but the idea of leaving Lightning crumbles my intentions. She's all I have left now."

"I'm sure you know your business better than anybody, but I can't help but wonder if livin' like a lonely hermit is suitable for a young man like ya."

"I'm perfectly capable of running the farm on my own," I reply in a tone that implies I'm annoyed at the marshal questioning my capabilities. My voice softens when I next add, "But I admit it gets quite lonely up there."

"And it'll be twice as bad without your pa." I nod in agreement, and his next question catches me by surprise. "Lou, I imagine that you look after your animals and the stables at your property."

"I used to, but some wolves killed all our hens and cows, so it's just Lightning left now… well, apparently, not even her."

"Your father mentioned something about that," the marshal replies, and stops for a second. "Lou, I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" I echo, frowning.

"I'm offerin' you a job. I'm in need of somebody to run and clean the stables at the way station. I'm ready to set your debt right with Scott here, but I expect to be repaid with the wages you earn workin' for me. Let me be upfront with you. The pay ain't great, but it's enough to get by, and lodgings and food are included in the job."

My heart is thudding. The offer is tempting, and it might be something I can't refuse if I want Lightning back. And that way I won't have to go back to my lonely prison. I'll be able to do what I've always dreamed of doing: having other experiences and living among other folks. Yet, there's a question burning in my mind. "Why do you bother to do this for me? You don't know me."

The marshal grins as he says, "You remind me of my boys when they first came to me. I've a good hunch about you, and I ain't usually wrong."

I smile tightly. I wonder if his boys… probably his sons will have a problem with me working for their father, if they're around. Yet, I make no mention of my thoughts because Marshal Hunter must know better. I simply nod as I finally accept the job, fearful and excited about what now lies before me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

_Lou_

Marshal Hunter tells me to find him in his office in an hour because he first needs to see to a few things. Having Lightning back quenches my melancholy a bit, and in the hour before I'm to meet the marshal, I pass the time riding my beautiful mare. I set off at a light canter, but in the prairie I spur her faster and faster, and we are soon almost flying against the wind. I've never had the chance to ride her like this before as there are no open spaces where I live. Galloping freely and without restrictions feels so amazing, and despite my problems and the torturous notion of Pa in prison, I surprise myself when I find a smile on my lips.

I could spend the rest of the day riding like this, but I can't push Lightning too hard, and Marshal Hunter is waiting for me. True to his word, he is in his office when I turn up. His deputy, the one who called me a half-wit, is there too, and I don't bother to even greet him. Thankfully, the marshal is ready to leave and simply asks him to hold the fort while he's out.

"Let's walk to the station. It's actually at a stone's throw."

I untie Lightning from the post I previously tethered her to, and steer her behind us by the reins as we walked down Rock Creek's main street. The marshal greets every single soul he comes across, which I believe is logical since he's a relevant person in the city. He's the law, and everybody must sure know and respect him.

"Marshal Hunter…"

"Teaspoon."

"I beg your pardon?" I let out clumsily.

"Call me Teaspoon. That's what most folks around here call me."

"Why?" I ask, curious to know the story behind the peculiar nickname.

"It's a long tale we have no time for today. I might tell ya one day." He pauses and adds, "So what were you sayin'?"

"Uh… Marsh… uh… Teaspoon, how big is your farm? I mean, I ain't afraid of hard work, and I'm tough, but ours is just a small plot, and I wonder how different it will be at your place."

The marshal stares at me with a frowning expression. "It ain't my farm, boy. It's a Pony Express station like I told ya."

I thought that when he mentioned the station, he was referring to the name of his farm. Naturally, I don't mention any of this, but something draws my instant curiosity. "Pony Express?" I echo, unsure what he means by that strange name.

Teaspoon smiles patronizingly as he realizes my ignorance. "The Pony Express is the company I work for. Apart from being the marshal in Rock Creek, I'm the master running the way station here. The five riders that are housed there transport the mail here in the west… a route between St. Joseph, Missouri and Sacramento, California."

"You mean like some kind of emissaries?" I ask as I recall the name message bearers are given in some of the stories in my lost books.

The marshal gives me a crooked, amused smile as he says, "Yes… more or less."

"So those are the boys you told me about… the ones I remind you of?" I ask again, but refrain from saying that I thought he'd been talking about his sons.

"That's right."

Teaspoon points at a group of buildings we're approaching and he announces that they belong to the station. From the close distance I make out a corral in which a few horses quietly stand, and a big structure which I imagine to be the stables or maybe the barn rises close by. I can also see a white-washed house, surrounded by a picket fence, and a few feet from the dainty house there is a single-story building with an ample porch where I guess the riders live.

Teaspoon guides me to the stables, and I leave Lightning outside. The size is impressive and striking compared to our modest one at home. I guess this place must be similar to the local stables in town where Pa left my mare, but I was so upset and angry before that I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings. "Your responsibilities include muckin' out stalls, fillin' the troughs and feeders, and helpin' keep the tack and saddles in good condition among other things," Teaspoon explains. "My riders are also expected to do some of these chores when they're at the station, so don't worry if it sounds like too much because you won't have to do everythin' on your own. Normally every rider looks after his own horse, and pitch in to see to the extra ones in turns. Naturally, it's also your job to help in the care of the animals."

I nod. "I understand that."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir," I reply, shaking my head at the same time.

"Then let me show ya where you can sleep and leave your things," Teaspoon says, and at the far end of the corridor that the stalls form he opens a door and beckons me to go inside. The room I step into ain't bigger than the den Pa built in the forest. Yet, it's much more luminous as a window dominates the south wall and rushes of light stream in. The room has nothing much in it: a single bed, a washbowl and jug on a simple stand, a small coal range and a chest where I imagine I can store my personal objects. The place ain't a palace, but it's clean and even cozy.

"I used to bunk here, well, not exactly here, but the one we had at the other station in Sweetwater, but since I have responsibilities in town, I have my lodgings there," he explains, and pauses for one second. "You'll find a pump outside you can get water from, and you can help yourself to the coal supply we store in the barn. And when you want to take a bath, there's a wooden tub in the den." He pauses again, and adds, "I know that compared to having a whole cabin for you alone, this room is a poor replacement."

"I think it's quite satisfactory indeed. I don't need much."

Teaspoon eyes me with a glint of amusement. "You like your big words, don't ya?"

Before I can answer in some fashion, he carries on, "Anyway, the riders live in the bunkhouse across the yard where you'll take your meals with the rest of us. You might think you could have a place there as well, but I like the idea of havin' someone sleepin' here for safe keepin'. We had a problem with rustlers recently, and the alarm came too late when they'd stolen a bunch of our horses already."

"I'm sorry."

"No need. We got them back eventually," he replies. "In any case, believe me when I say I'm doin' you a favor for lettin' you stay here. Livin' in the bunkhouse with those raucous boys ain't nothin' to long for, and in this little room, although small, you won't have to share your space with anybody."

I like that, I muse. I'd feel uncomfortable if I had to sleep surrounded by strangers. I'm used to having my own bedroom, and the notion of stripping down every night in front of other people makes me uneasy. Pa's firm set of rules about dressing and undressing must have rubbed off on me, and I do believe there are some things that should be done in private.

A repetitive metallic clank like the one from a bell drifts into the room, and Teaspoon says, "You hear that? That's the most beautiful sound in the world. It means dinner awaits us."

He licks his lips and closes his eyes in eager delight. His expression is so comical that I can't help the chuckle spontaneously surfacing. Teaspoon opens one eye and squints at me with curiosity. "Oh so you know how to laugh too?"

That comments sobers my mirth at once. I've had little reason to smile, let alone to laugh, in the last few hours. So even though I don't like it, it's not surprising my new boss has made that comment.

"Come on, Lou. Let's have some dinner before those boys gorge it all. And naturally you still need to meet 'em."

I follow Teaspoon out of the stables, and we keep silent as we cross the yard in the direction of the building he calls the bunkhouse. When we climb onto the porch, a voice wafts out of an open window, loud and clear. "Teaspoon's hired that man's son? I can't believe he'd do something so daft." There are some dissenting murmurs, and the same voice continues, "Don't get me wrong, fellas. I've got nothing against a boy who ain't right in his head, but we already have too much work as it is without having to play nanny to a poor waif."

I stiffen when I realize that it's me that's the subject of this shameful put-down. What the hell is wrong with people? How can anybody judge me without even meeting me first? My perplexed, furious eyes turn to search for Teaspoon, but he's gone ahead and already opened the door. "Cody!" I hear him bellow in an impatient tone. "When on earth are you gonna learn to think before opening your big trap, for goodness' sake?"

I hold my breath and remain outside, not eager to take another step. I have no intention to mix with people that sound so hostile and unwelcoming. If I didn't owe Teaspoon the money, I'd even consider going back home, but I'm in debt with him. I have half a mind to turn on my heel and head for my new bedroom. I think I still have a few things in my saddlebags that would make do to entertain my hungry stomach tonight.

Just as I give the option serious thought, Teaspoon's voice resounds again. "As you all wanted, I've hired someone to help around the station. We don't need a new rider, but I got ya a stables boy. Come inside, Lou. Don't be shy."

I'm loath to go inside, but I muse that it wouldn't do me good to start off on the wrong foot. After all, as Teaspoon has told me, I'm supposed to work alongside his riders. Meeting them is unavoidable, and the sooner I get done with it, the better. So I lift my chin proudly and march inside. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by diffidence as I find myself the centre of attention of five pairs of eyes. I'm tongue-tied, looking around me when suddenly a familiar voice surprises me. "Oh Lou, what a nice surprise!"

I smile to see a friendly face when I recognize Mrs. Dunne. I wonder what she's doing here, but I have no chance to put the thought into words as she says, "I work and live at the station too. I'm the cook here as well as Rock Creek's teacher." She tosses a look at Teaspoon and explains, "Lou and I met in town. I'm afraid I was clumsy and ruffled some of his feathers."

"It was nothing, just a misunderstanding, Mrs. Dunne."

"And please call me Rachel," she replies and approaches me to give me a pat on the back.

I'm ashamed to admit that my curiosity in the outer world is troublesome and makes me behave improperly even if I'm not aware most of the time what kind of improper transgressions I might be committing. What I do in the bunkhouse next is an example. My eyes are suddenly drawn to Rachel's middle. She ain't wearing the jacket I previously saw her in, and her décolletage flashes an ample bosom. Pa told me once that women's chests, albeit similar to men's, are usually bulkier because they nurse their children when they're babies like animals do. I never noticed this when I befriended Esther because she was always wearing a coat or jacket whenever we met, but Rachel's torso is hard to miss.

I realize that I'm doing something wrong when Rachel folds her arms awkwardly, trying to cover the area my eyes are focused on, and I hear laughter around me as one of the men say, "Rachel, your charms never fail to have that strong impact on us men."

I blush, looking away, and Teaspoon impatiently mumbles a rebuke to the blonde man who made the remark. "Lou," he adds, "I'm afraid I have no other alternative but to introduce you to this bunch of brutes. These are Jimmy, Buck, Noah, Kid, and… Cody," he concludes, casting a warning look at the blonde rider, whose name I've already heard more than once.

I nod in acknowledgement and look at every young man the marshal points at in turns. Are these the boys I remind him of? I don't know how that's possible because at first glance I'm nothing like them. They're all tall, broad-shouldered and rough-looking, and in comparison I feel like a dwarf.

Cody is staring at me with unconcealed amusement. I'm already tired of being the butt of his malicious comments, and the fact that he's already judged me so lightly makes me have qualms about him. I stare back at him and snap, "What are you smirking at?"

He gives me a coy smile and says, "Ain't you a bit puny for this hard job?"

Before I have the chance to speak, Teaspoon steps in. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Cody. Lou here's stronger than you might think. A few days ago he killed and flayed a wolf and scared away another on his own," he explains, repeating the story I told him when I was so troubled by the idea of losing Lightning.

"I'm impressed," Cody replies in a tone that conveys he doesn't believe a word Teaspoon has said.

This man is a moron, I think annoyed, but I tell myself he ain't gonna drag me to anger. Even though I'd like nothing more than punch him in that stupid mouth of his, I do my best to get a grip of myself. I decide to ignore him and my eyes travel to the rest of the riders. The one called Jimmy looks at me with an indifferent expression and his face only changes into a scowl as Cody continues gabbing on. I'm glad to see that I ain't the only one to think Cody is insufferable.

Next to Jimmy is Buck. I can tell he's an Indian. His complexion and very dark hair is a give-away of his background even though he's wearing common clothes. Once when I was eight or so, Pa and I spotted a couple of Indians outside our property. They were dressed in buckskins and had a colorful assortment of pendants and strings of beads around their necks. Pa then hustled me inside, and we stayed cooped up there until he made sure the Indians were gone. Back then my father told me terrible stories about people being savagely murdered and farms being burned to the ground by parties f blood-thirsty Indians. I have no reason to think that my father's tales are anything but true. I admit that at the time they scared and gave me a few nightmares, but we never saw an Indian again, let alone suffer any problems.

Noah is like no man I ever thought I could encounter. His skin is smooth and as dark as a starless night. I know of the different races in the world, but I wrongly assumed people like Noah lived in far away lands and countries. Noah's skin has such a beautiful luster that I consider reaching out to touch it, which I don't do naturally. After my many blunders since I arrived in Rock Creek, I need to watch my steps and restrain myself from putting me in an uncomfortable position. Somehow I sense my touching Noah wouldn't sit well with him.

Despite all my missteps and some people's mean attitudes, I'm really fascinated by all the new experiences I'm living. Who could have thought that in a few hours I'll find myself settled in Rock Creek, with a proper paying job and making acquaintance with people of all kinds and even different races?

As the satisfactory thought fills my mind, I cast a perfunctory glimpse at the last rider, who Teaspoon called Kid. He's sporting a smile, and his fresh, open expression gives me good sensations. Not that I have any misgivings about the others, apart from Cody, naturally, but I don't know why, Kid somehow makes me feel at ease.

"Why don't we sit for dinner?" Rachel says as he carries a steaming pot to the table.

"Jesse late again?" Teaspoon asks, and Rachel just shrugs her shoulders in a gesture that I recognize as resignation.

From the corner of my eye I see Cody skillfully pushing Buck aside and sneaking into the bench, so that he's seated just opposite me. He clears his throat, directs his blue eyes to me, and says, "Lou, let me give you some advice to survive among us here. You'll thank me later." I can see Jimmy rolling his eyes and Buck chuckling. I glance at him cautiously, unsure what to expect from this young man that so far ain't in my favor.

"Number one," he starts, flashing his thumb aloft as apparently he intends to list a few things he considers I need to know. "Whatever you do, don't touch Noah's whip. Ever. He considers it more sacred than his own life." Noah glimpses at him indifferently, not bothering to support or protest against his friends words. "Number two, never tamper with Buck's pouch," he carries on, pointing with his thumb at the small leather bag hanging from the other rider's neck. "It's kind of magical. I didn't use to believe in that hogwash about spirits and their ire, but after a series of strange circumstances, I ain't sure if that's such bosh anymore."

A rumble of laughter ripple around the table. I remain stoically serious not understanding what he's saying about spirits and Buck's pouch, and I can't grasp either what is so funny about that. Cody ain't laughing and carries on, ignoring the others. "Third, no care is good enough for Katy, Kid's pinto mare. He just adores her. We all believe he doesn't have a girl because no woman can measure up to his dear Katy."

"Cody, I warn you. You're treading on dangerous ground." Kid's relaxed expression is gone, and his glare is an obvious reflection of his annoyance. I understand his logical irritation. It's nice to see somebody who cares about his horse just like I do, and Cody's mockery will miff anybody.

"Kid, Cody's right, expect in just one thing," Jimmy steps in, and for the first time his stern expression has softened, and his eyes shine in amusement. "You don't have a girl because you're just damn ugly."

"Look who's talking," Noah pipes up next. "Since when have you seen girls formed in line for you, Jimmy?"

The exchange of comments causes a new wave of laughter around the table. I'm the only one unable to join their mirth. Even Kid seems to have forgotten his irritation and is also chuckling. I feel awkward, like a fish out of water, as if they were speaking a different language. How can they laugh when they've been hurling insults at each other? I don't understand anything.

I realize that the continuous murmur of voices and laughter is giving me a headache. I guess I need to get used to being surrounded by sounds, voices and noise. The laughter dies down, and Cody's attention is once again focused on me. "And finally and most importantly, never ever mention Wild Bill Hickok around Jimmy."

I frown and ask, "Who is Wild Bill Hickok?"

Cody laughs and Teaspoon adds, "Son, with that answer you just got on Jimmy's good side."

I look at Jimmy, but his eyes are directed to the food in his plate. I wait for the answer to my question, but nobody makes an attempt to respond. They are all bowed over their plates and eating, so I follow suit. After a few welcoming moments of silence, Rachel speaks up, "Lou, why don't you tell us something about you?"

I wash down the bite of meat in my mouth with a sip of water. "About me?" I echo, not used to being asked questions or talking about myself. Not even when Esther and I met did I have to say much. She was the one who did all the talking. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Teaspoon told me you live in the mountains," Rachel insists.

"Yes, my father and me," I reply, but my voice lowers a notch as I think of Pa and what he might be doing at this moment. "We have a cabin and some farming land."

"Have you been living there long?" Buck asks.

"Almost all my life. I was two when we moved there," I stop there because I don't want to reveal the reason why my father chose that very spot for us.

"Lou's a real mountain man," Teaspoon adds. "I'm sure he could teach you one thing or two about how to survive on just a few basic things and without the comforts you boys enjoy now."

"We hardly live on the lap of luxury, Teaspoon," Cody protests.

"And we work hard and dangerously," Jimmy agrees with his friend.

"Lou," Buck demands my attention, ignoring the two riders' comments, "how is life up there? Living all alone with just your father?"

I don't answer straightaway. I can't say I love it there because I've been too miserable lately. That's the truth, but I can't bring myself to speak ill of my home. Pa has done everything in his power to give me everything and make sure I didn't miss a single thing. Yet, I've missed my own freedom even though he never realized it. "It's nice and quiet," I say vaguely, avoiding answering his question.

"You could say that," Cody scoffs ironically. "And I bet pretty boring too."

I shrug my shoulders. I guess he's right, but I'm reluctant to admit it. "We have lots to do up there. We hardly have time to stop for a breather, except on Sundays, and even then there's chores to do too."

"I imagine you'll have visitors… friends from time to time," Noah adds.

"Uh… no, not really."

"But you and your father surely come to town occasionally," Kid says.

I shake my head. "We… there's no reason. We have everything we need up there."

I lower my eyes and cut another piece of the tender meat Rachel's cooked. It tastes divine, and I'm about to comment on the food when Cody speaks up, "Everything, Lou? What about the chicks?"

"The chicks?" I echo with a frown

"Cody…" Rachel lets out in a scolding tone.

I swallowed the bite in my mouth. Cody is still looking at me, expecting my answer, and I don't understand why he's so interested in knowing about that. "Well, there's a peddler who normally supplies us with them. He's like an in-between man and gets them here in town and brings them to us. I think Pa pays him extra for that."

I notice wary looks passing between the riders, and I ain't sure what I've said, but there's something wrong in my words. Even Rachel is staring at me as if I had committed the biggest sin. I clear my throat uncomfortably and try to speak again, "He… Al the peddler also got us our last cow a few months ago, but since Al wouldn't be passing through for another two weeks or so, that's why … why Pa came to Rock Creek when the wolves killed the… the chicks and our cows."

As I finish, a deadly silence reigns in the bunkhouse, and suddenly, everybody bursts out laughing loudly. Laughter thunders around me and I look around me and I notice that even Rachel and Teaspoon are in stitches. I feel my cheeks crimson furiously and lower my face. I don't understand. I don't understand why they're all laughing at me. What on earth have I said? Is it my voice or my way of speaking? Talking about chicks is hardly funny. I regretfully realize that my first day in Rock Creek is not going as I always envisioned it would. People seem so alien and strange to me, and I hope things change or I get used to their singularities because otherwise, it's not gonna be tough… very tough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

_Lou_

The long walk to Rock Creek plus all the excitement and fears I experienced yesterday must have exhausted me more than I thought because I crashed as soon as I laid down in my new bed. I don't even remember having had any dreams or disturbing nightmares when I wake up. It's been the best sleep I've had in a long time.

It's dark outside, I notice as I glimpse at the only window opposite me. Since I'm sure I won't get any more shuteye, I'd better get a move on and start work. Yet, I remain ensconced in bed, wondering what the day will have in store for me. Last night after dinner I scurried to hide in my new room as soon as I could. The riders make me feel awkward and different, and I couldn't get away from them quickly enough. I don't like the way they kept looking at me as if I were some kind of strange creature. Cody was the worst and didn't make the least effort to conceal his amusement and open mockery whenever he laid his eyes on me. I was tempted to let my anger have free rein, but I didn't want to make a poor show of myself on my first night with them. I guess I'll get used to their ways eventually, and they'll also have to get used to having me around.

It's time I stop lazing around. I drag my body out of bed, and at the first contact of my skin with the air, I shiver and my teeth chatter. It's cold and I rub my hands together, trying to bring some warmth to my freezing body. The fire in the range is almost dead, and I shove a few more pieces of coal in, stoking them energetically. The fire comes back to life, its heat slapping my face comfortingly. I close the iron door and straighten up. I fill a pot with the water I brought in last night and leave it on top of the range. Meanwhile, I find my fresh long johns and shirt in my saddlebags and give them a firm shake to smooth their creases off. As I slid out of my long johns into the clean ones, I realize I'm short of underwear and clothing. I don't own too many clothes as it is, but I need more than the shirt and the pair of long johns I packed when I left home. Maybe Teaspoon will let me ride to my cabin, and I can pick up a few more things. Yet, in the meantime I'll have to make sure to wash my underwear and clothes every day.

When I've washed up and I'm dressed, I carry outside the bundle that my discarded long johns and shirt are now. Across the yard I spot lines of hung clothes next to the house where I know Rachel sleeps. Without hesitation I walk there, and in no time I have filled a tub with cold water and shove my clothes in. I have no time to boil water today, and even if I had, I wouldn't know what I could use to heat it. I doubt I'm expected to use my little range and carry the water all the way from my room till here whenever I want to do my laundry. This is something I have to ask Rachel or Teaspoon today.

The water is freezing. My hands ache and the skin turns a blue tinge as I submerge them and energetically rub my clothes against the scrubbing board. Suds cover my fingers and the shapeless mass of material that my garments have become. I dip them in clear water several times, and after I study the job I've done, I nod to myself in satisfaction. I'm sure I could've got them whiter if I'd been able to use hot water, but today this will have to do. I find a few clothes pegs and locate a space on the line where I can hang my shirt and long johns. I pin my underwear next to some other undies which I assume belong to the riders. Hanging them side by side, I notice how small my long johns, and by extension myself, are in comparison to the other garments. Nature hasn't been too generous with me, but, well, that's the way I am. And I'll be damned if I let anybody play me down for my small size. I'm no lesser man, and I'll stand up to anybody who questions my value.

When I'm pegging my shirt onto the line, I hear a voice above where I stand. "Who's there?"

I lift my eyes to discover a tousled mane of blonde hair poking out of the window on the upper story in the house. I step from behind the line of hung clothes. "It's me Lou. Sorry if I woke you, Rachel."

"What are you doing there so early?" she asks me.

"I had some laundry to do."

Rachel lets out a brief giggle. "Oh Lou, you don't have to do that! Just leave anything that needs washing in one of those baskets," she points at a couple of wicker hampers lines against the side wall of the house, "and I'll do it for you."

"I don't want to come bothering you."

Rachel gives me another smile. "It ain't no bother. It's my job." She pauses for a second and adds, "I better start getting ready for today. See you later."

I mutter a soft thank you, which she doesn't hear as she's already disappeared back into her house. Once my shirt dangles next to the long johns I shuffle back to the stables. Since it is still quite dark, I light a lamp and hang it on a hook protruding from a post inside the stables. The stench is powerful, a mingle of horse dung, urine and sweat. I push the massive doors wide open to let some cold air in and the stifling fumes out. In the tack room I find everything I need and start mucking the stalls out.

As I get myself busy with work, time rolls by and the silent, cold world of the morning comes to life. The sun shyly comes out, light streaming in slants into the stables, and voices and noise reach me from outside. I keep intent on the task and nothing manages to distract me from my current responsibilities. After being active for almost an hour non-stop, I'm warm enough to shed my coat. Physical activity has often helped to shush my worries away, and today it's also playing its trick. I haven't thought about Pa much or what I'm supposed to do with my life in the next five years.

I'm in the last stall, and I hear the riders bustle inside. There's no hint they are aware of my presence, and I don't make the least attempt to let them know I'm here. Their laughter and voices get mingled with the sound of stall doors opening and closing. Hoofs echo in the cavernous building as I assume horses are being steered out of the building for some reason, and then I'm left alone and in silence once again.

It's minutes later that I hear the metallic clank that I now know announces that breakfast is ready. The idea of food is appealing to my empty stomach which rumbles in eager anticipation. Yet, I don't move and keep maneuvering the rake as I strip the stall from its dirty bed of hay. I ain't willing to go to the bunkhouse even though I'm starving. Last night's uncomfortable encounter with the riders has put me off from further contact with them, and I ain't in the mood to stand Cody's jest and the others' assessing stares.

My eyes are glued on my sweeping motions with the rake, and I jump startled when an unexpected loud rap sounds behind me. I whip around and smile when I find Teaspoon. "Good morning," I say softly.

"Mornin', Lou. I see you're getting' on all right here," he remarks, swiping his hand in the air to indicate the stalls I've already cleaned.

I shrug my shoulders. "There's no science in it," I mumble in a disregarding way.

"You're doin' an excellent job, I must say. But you ain't supposed to starve. Rachel's servin' breakfast now, and I'm sure you noticed how ravenous those boys can be, especially Cody. If we ain't there in time, there won't be any crumbs left."

I lean my weight against the rake, and my fingers keep toying with its wooden handle. "You go, Teaspoon. I think I still have a few bites in my saddlebags that'll keep me going until lunch."

Teaspoon narrows his eyes and takes a couple of steps closer to me. Placing a hand on my bony shoulder, he talks to me, "Son, don't take to heart what the boys say. It's all hogwash. They're always horsin' around, but they don't mean anythin' by that."

I smile awkwardly, wondering how he has guessed my reluctance to join the others this morning. Moving away, I free myself from his hold. "I… things are so different to what I'm used to."

"I imagine so," Teaspoon replies, nodding his head. "Don't let those boys get to you. It's as simple as copy their antics and join the banter." I remain silent and he adds, "Come on, Lou. Let's have some breakfast."

I shrug my shoulders, and I finally relent and walk out of the stables behind him after I wash my face and dirty hands. In the yard Teaspoon has stopped and I follow his gaze. Squinting against the blinding sun, I make out the shadowed outline of a figure galloping towards the station. I also notice Kid on top of his beautiful pinto mare in the middle of the yard. I have no chance to wonder what he's doing there as he suddenly sets his mount into motion, a light canter that gradually turns into full gallop. My heart skips a beat when I realize he's guiding his horse at full steam to the other rider's path. "Is he crazy or what?" I exclaim in alarm. "They're going to crash!"

"Just wait and see," Teaspoon replies, and as I look up at him, his mouth is shaped into a crooked grin, gazing at the riders intently.

I shift my glance back ahead. Neither rider has slowed down or swerved their course. Kid's leading his horse on just one hand which grips the reins tautly while his other free arm is stretched forward as if reaching out for something. I notice the other rider is holding some kind of leather bag aloft and his hand is positioned in much the same angle as Kid's is.

They're so close. My heart is thumping apprehensively. They're going to crash. They're going to crash. I close my eyes in fear, expecting to hear a commotion at any moment. Yet, I hear nothing, and when I reopen my eyes, Kid's galloping away, unhurt, and the other rider has slowed his mount to a trot. "Ride safe, Kid!" he calls loudly, lifting his hand over his head, and I still can see Kid mimicking the gesture in the close distance.

"Teaspoon, tell Rachel I won't be staying for breakfast. I got instructions to continue and report in Benton."

Teaspoon nods to the rider's words, and says, "Help yourself to a fresh mount, son. And ride safe."

The rider voices his thanks and leads his horse to the stables. Teaspoon beckons me to resume walking. "What… what was that?"

"That's Charlie, another rider, but he's stationed in St. Jo."

"I don't mean him."

"Oh I see," Teaspoon adds. "I guess you mean the exchange between him and Kid just now?" I nod and he goes on, "That's the way the mail is passed from one rider to another, from station to station. The mail is transported in those leather pouches you saw Kid take from Charlie." In truth, I didn't see Kid take anything as my eyes were closed when that took place, but I don't mention it to Teaspoon.

"Ain't that a tad dangerous?" I ask instead.

He smiles. "I know it can be quite impressive when you see it bein' done for the first time, but you'll get used to it after a while. It's just routine."

We are almost at the bunkhouse, and before we join the others, there's something I've been mulling over and need to ask. "Teaspoon, is Jefferson City far from here?"

He shakes his head ruefully. "I'm afraid so. It's a long way from Rock Creek." He pauses and adds, "I can guess why you want to know, but tell me anyway."

"I… I'd like to see my father."

Teaspoon nods again. "I'll make some enquiries to find out when you can visit, and maybe when one of the boys has a ride in that direction, you can tag along." I cringe inside because I don't like the idea of including somebody else in my plans. This is something very personal, and it's nobody's business but mine. "In the meantime," Teaspoon carries on, "why don't you write to him? After all, you have full guarantee that your letter will be delivered safely to its destination." He winks at me, grinning at his own joke, but I keep a serious countenance. I can't write to Pa. If he learns that I'm no longer at home, living the life he so intently tried to keep me from, he'll have a fit. This ain't something I can tell him in a letter. I need to tell him face to face and explain everything in my own terms.

When Teaspoon and I step into the bunkhouse, the riders are settled around the long table while Rachel is hacking a loaf of bread and handing out the slices among the riders. Teaspoon greets them in his usual grandiloquent way and I just mumble an awkward 'morning'. As I place my hat on a peg, I notice a new face among the riders. Actually, it ain't such a new face and I'm pretty sure I've seen this boy before. Suddenly, revelation hits me and I remember he's the school pupil Rachel pointed at when I first came across her.

The bunkhouse is warm and cozy, so I remove my jacket and leave it on a hanger. When I turn around, Cody's next to me and irritated, I wonder what on earth he wants from me now. To my utter astonishment, he places his hand on top of my head and says, "Look, Jesse. You now have a little friend to play with."

"Shut up, Cody," the boy called Jesse grunts angrily.

I look up to see Cody guffaw. I'm boiling with anger at this buffoon's stupid antics and jokes. I'm tired of being treated like a child or an idiot, and among the black clouds of irritation a soothing light appears on my horizon as Teaspoon's words resound in my mind. _Copy them, _he'd said, and that's what I intend to do. Cody's hand lies still on my head. He's taller than me, naturally, and my height reaches just the level of his chin. A wicked idea creeps into my mind, and I don't drown it this time. "Cody," I start in a neutral voice that contrasts with the fury I feel inside. "Let me give you some advice to… to survive around me. You'll thank me later," I say, echoing his own words from last night.

"What?"

I swing my head forward, my chin almost touching my chest, and thus Cody's hand gets released from my head. In a fast motion my head springs back into position, and my nape knocks against something. A loud shriek and a curse follow, and I can't help but smile when I see Cody covering his bleeding lips with his hands. With no mercy I finally deliver my coup de grace. "I don't like anybody's hands on me, especially your clumsy ones. So never ever touch me again!"

Cody's face is red with indignation. "Are you crazy?" he yells, the words sounding slurred and nasalized. "Teaspoon, see who you've brought us here! A lunatic! He could have broken one of my teeth!" His fingers probe inside his bleeding mouth, but he doesn't find anything missing, thankfully. His angry words have worried me, though. Maybe I've gone too far, and now Teaspoon might want to fire me. One of the things he told me when he first hired me was that he wouldn't consent to fights and squabbles in his station, and I've clearly overstepped the limits of his rules. Yet, to my surprise, when I look at him, his eyes are glowing with mischief and amusement.

"Cody, you simply asked for it. Son, I've told you dozens of times. You have to learn to quench your peculiar sense of humor when enough is enough."

"Lou, you definitely gave him a good lesson!" Buck exclaims, chuckling.

Everybody else is openly laughing, except Cody, naturally. This is something I didn't expect. Cody's still whining but his badly-pronounced words are hard to understand.

"Shall we have a quiet, peaceful breakfast just for once?" Teaspoon commands in a tone that implies he believes that is a lost battle to begin with.

I sit across from him, and I hear Cody's slurred voice say, "Breakfast, Teaspoon? Look at me! How am I supposed to eat from now on? That brute's condemned me to starve!"

Laughter erupts after his words, and as I frown, wondering what is so funny, Jimmy leans forward and says, "Lou, it seems you've performed a miracle here today. Cody not eating is something that can be compared to turning water into wine or the resurrection of the dead. Never seen before."

For the first time in the day I relax and laugh. Yet, when I look at my side, I catch Cody glaring at me, and I can almost hear the words he's not saying. _Sooner or later we'll get even._ That doesn't intimidate me, and I lift my chin proudly and laugh again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15**

_Lou_

Despite his whines and protests, Cody's hurt lip didn't prevent him from stuffing his face at mealtimes. His mouth is swollen and looks like a pair of big sausages, but at lunch and dinner that day he wolfs down two brimming plates of Rachel's scrumptious cooking. He doesn't talk to me or look my way, and secretly I don't care. I'm actually glad that my little stunt has stopped his annoying gibes.

My first day at the station goes smooth. It's hard work, and that night when I hit the pillow, I fall asleep at once. The following morning I'm feeling more confident. I'm now familiar with my surroundings and my new job, and peaceful warmth has settled in my soul. I have even surpassed my apprehension to deal with the riders, and this morning when they come to the stables, we exchange greeting and share a few light comments. Naturally, Cody is another story. I don't really want to antagonize him, and I hope we can eventually reach an understanding.

After breakfast I return to my chores, and from the stables I hear a voice announcing 'Rider coming'. I dash outside. Noah is ready on his horse, and I make out Kid's outline galloping towards the station. I've seen this ritual of mochila relay a few times already, so I'm now aware what to expect. The exchange doesn't cease to amaze me, and I stand mesmerized, gazing at the mail pouch being transferred from hand to hand expertly.

When Kid eases down his mare, I approach him. "Let me take care of her."

He smiles and nods. "Thanks, Lou."

I take the reins and lead the mare to the stables. She's beautiful and strong. A solid, trustworthy animal for the job. I guess Lightning could also be a good asset for the Pony Express. She's fast and sprite and I'm sure she'd enjoy galloping freely miles and miles instead of being cooped up in the stall with just the occasional chance I have to ride her. I consider telling Teaspoon he can use her as part of the herd of horses the Express needs. After all, she's theoretically his until I pay back my debt. Yet, I'm selfish, and the idea of somebody else riding Lightning or something happening to her finally puts me off.

Inside the stables I remove the saddle and tack from Katy, and lead her to her stall. The feeder is half-full, so I top it up and fill the trough with fresh water. Then I slide into the stall, and my hand caresses the mare's coat. She's still sweating, and dipping a rag into cool water I softly wipe Katy's back and sides. I'm still busy with her when I notice Kid standing outside the stall.

I smile awkwardly. "I hope you don't mind me pampering your mare," I hedge, remembering what Cody had said about Kid being fussing about Katy.

He rests his arms on the stall door and smiles. "Naturally I don't. She seems to like it… and you." I don't know why his words please me so much, but they do. I continue brushing Katy's coat with the wet rag, and Kid adds, "You also have a beautiful horse."

I lift my eyes and see him studying Lightning, whose head pokes out of the opposite stall. "She's very special to me," I confess. "My father gave her to me when I turned sixteen." Mentioning pa is painful, and I lower my eyes. It's strange. For a long time I longed to be freed from his suffocating ruling, and now that I've been granted my liberty in a strange way, I miss him more than I thought it possible.

"I can share the feeling," Kid says, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Katy's the only thing that's mine, and she really matters to me."

"Has she been with you for long?"

He shakes his head, and recounts the way he managed to gather enough money to buy his mare. He tells me about seeing her for the first time and being totally captivated by the animal. He felt an immense desire to own her, but he didn't have a single cent back then. His chance came in the way of an unusual challenge. In the town a crowd gathered around a corral, watching man after man being beaten and defeated by a strong sturdy professional pugilist. The bait was obviously money. Anybody who could stand on their two feet against the man for a couple of minutes would win forty dollars, which Kid thought would be enough to buy his dreamlike mare. He was determined to pocket that money, and even though the man running the fighting tried to discourage him, he was adamant. For minutes that felt like hours he was submitted to powerful punches, but his will was stronger, and when the bell announcing the time was up, Kid was barely aware of his surroundings, but he managed to stand. Bleeding and black and blue all over, he had just enough energy to walk back to the stables and hand a very surprised stable owner the money Katy was worth.

I'm impressed by his talk, and I simply stare at him with admiration. He's blushing, and I think he feels he's said more than he should. To cover his awkwardness, he grins and says, "And tell me, how are you getting on here with us?"

"Not too bad. Just getting used to everything."

Kid nods. "I'm glad to have someone new here. It's been too quiet lately," he says. I stare at him, hoping he elaborates, but he only adds, "I'll leave you now and try to grasp some sleep. Thanks, Lou."

Kid leaves and when I'm left alone, I continue working on Katy. My first impression of Kid was really accurate. He seems an honest, agreeable fella, and I'm sure I could get along with him. We could be friends. God knows I need a real friend, which is something I've never enjoyed, apart from that short spell I had with Esther. As her name pops in my head, I mull I can now try to find her in Rock Creek. Maybe when I have time to go to town, I could ask around. I'd like to see her. Esther's going to be so surprised. I can hardly wait to see her face.

* * *

My days fall into a routine and stop feeling as alien as when I first landed in Rock Creek. I love working and living here. Until now I hadn't realized how lonely I was before. Even though I spend a great part of the day alone just with the horses, I also enjoy the company of my new friends. Yes, I can claim that Teaspoon, Rachel, Jesse, and the riders have become my friends. Even Cody has come around, and seems to have accepted me in the end. Mind you, I ain't blind or try to delude myself into thinking that everything's perfect. They still watch me curiously as if I were an exotic animal. For some reason I feel I'm different to them… and not in a physical way, but in a deeper sense. I find it so hard to engage in their conversations, for example. More often than not, I get lost and don't understand the lingo or double entendres they favor and find so amusing. That makes me feel like a fool, and lately I tend to laugh along, forcing a fake smile onto my lips even though I have no idea what the joke is. Sometimes my limited grasp of the words they use or my clumsy mouth get me in trouble, and I end up being the laughingstock. That doesn't worry me too much, though. Things will change with time, and I'm happy to be here, so as long as I keep quiet and don't talk a lot, I can really breeze by.

Today instead of spending my short afternoon break in the bunkhouse, I take my retreat in my bedroom. The boys planned to play poker, and I ain't in the mood for card games. They've taught me how to play, and surprisingly, I ain't too bad at it, but poker bores me to death, especially when Cody ain't playing. He always gets into such a steam when he's losing that it sends us all into fits of laughter. That's the only thing I find amusing about the game. Today, though, he mysteriously snuck out of the bunkhouse as soon as lunch was over, so without the expectation of a good laugh, I couldn't bring myself to bear a soporific session of a card game.

That's not the only reason. I'm also weary and my stomach aches. Yesterday my bleeding started, and when that comes, I usually feel very weak and even cranky. It's a real nuisance. Apart from the discomfort for days, I hate all the washing it involves. It's disgusting. Last night I was up till late, washing my soiled rags in my room, and then I left them to dry around the sparse space I sleep in. I wonder how the riders do it when it happens to them. This ain't something you want others to see or know about. I doubt Rachel does that kind of laundry for them. Cleaning everybody's clothes and underwear is one thing, but dealing with the revolting blood that oozes from your innards is something else. And as Pa told me, this is something too personal and private you never tell others. I guess the boys will have their ways, and it ain't my business anyway.

I lie in the bed and my eyes stare up at the ceiling. Absently, my hand rubs and makes circle motions on my sore lower abdomen, but the soft strokes do nothing to soothe the pain. I turn on my side and bring my legs against me. Maybe if I take a quick nap, I'll feel better afterwards, or at least, less exhausted, but sleep eludes me. I wish I had a book with me. Reading usually takes my mind off my problems, but I can't afford a book right now. It'll have to wait. I've already received my first wages, but after paying Teaspoon the weekly part I agreed on to cover my debt, I wound up with just enough money to buy a pair of pants and gloves.

I haven't' been able to ride home yet to pick up the rest of my things, and that's why I had to spend my pay at the store in town. That was another new, enlightening experience for me. I'd never seen so many things together in one place, and the store was brimming with merchandise. I vaguely remember Al's cart of goodies when Pa allowed me to go with him, but I'm sure that can't be compared to the general store. I was naturally drawn to the shelf of books for sale. There were dozens, cramming the ledges, and I was totally mesmerized. If I'd had enough money, I'd have bought all of them. The reality was that I didn't even have enough to buy a single volume. So I had to drag myself from there and rummage the clothing area. There was a table with rolls of pretty material… beautiful colors and patterns. As I was fingering the fabrics, Kid came to me and whispered I was in the ladies' corner and directed me in the right direction where I could find the pants I wanted to buy. Naturally, I knew the fabrics were for women, which I didn't tell him, but I like seeing the variety of colors and motifs. We men have to wear such boring, dull things, and I wish I could have a nice shirt in these lovely tinges and patterns.

Good ol' Kid… He's become my pal. I think he regards me as a younger cousin or brother even though I believe there can't be a big age difference between us. Maybe a year or two. That should irritate me, but how can I be sore at him when he's been such a help to me? Whenever I look lost or troubled, he seems able to read my mind and explains to me what has escaped my grasp, or patiently tells me why some of my blunders cause so much hilarity. He's a good man, and inspires a great sense of safety and support in me. I rely on him, and I have to admit that if I can, I always sit next to him at meal times. His presence comforts me somehow, and I know I can trust him to help me through those times around the rest of the riders.

The other boys ain't mean or cold either, but they seem to have their own problems to pay too much attention to me. Buck, for example, speaks very little and it looks as if he's in his own world more often than not, preventing anybody from trespassing. Kid told me that one of the riders that was stationed here was like a brother to Buck, but a man killed him recently. Since that happened, Buck hasn't been the same, and Kid believes that actually, none of them are.

Jimmy is quite sparing with words, except when he's bickering with Cody. I finally learned who Wild Bill Hickok is and what kind of problems his alter ego has brought to Jimmy. I'm sorry for him, and I wish I could tell him something, but he somehow intimidates me. When he's not in one of his somber moods, he's real friendly with the others, but I've noticed he still keeps me at arm's length as if he didn't trust me yet.

Noah is a very independent spirit and also keeps his distance from me. I have no idea what the reason is, but he's quite wary too. And Cody… well, Cody is just Cody. And I admit that in this case it is me who wants to keep the distance between him and me. It's no wonder Kid and I have chummed. In fact, we ain't really close, and he logically spends more time with the others than with me, but at least, I feel I have somebody my own age I can turn to when I'm at sea. Maybe I could ask him what to do about Esther. Yesterday when I was at the store, the keeper told me where she lives when I asked him. I haven't talked about her with anybody else, and now I wonder what I should do. I don't want to blunder it, and I ain't sure if it is polite or proper to call on her without being invited beforehand. I have the feeling that ain't totally right. Maybe I could send her a note, requesting to see her. That should work, shouldn't it? But how can I have that note delivered? In my books men and women exchange notes and letters through their servants, but that's not my case. This is something I'll definitely have to ask Kid, and I'm sure he'll know what I can do.

Lately I've been thinking about Esther at great lengths. Girls are a common conversation topic at mealtimes in the bunkhouse even though none of the riders are courting anybody as far as I know. Cody's always claiming to have fallen in love with a different woman every day which naturally is cause for mockery among us, but he pays little attention to the others' jest. Buck doesn't speak about this much either. Noah is corresponding with a girl he courted in Rock Creek briefly, but after a problem I haven't been told much about she had to leave town. Whether they are still a couple or not, he never says. Jimmy ain't interested in anybody at the moment, or so it seems, and Kid likes a girl called Debbie, but some other man has already staked his claim on her. More's the pity. Naturally, I'm also being submitted to Cody's curiosity as far as women are concerned. I couldn't talk about Esther, and I simply brushed him off and said I haven't had too many chances to meet girls, which he already knew, and for once he left me off the hook.

I wonder if Esther ever thinks of me. I have to admit that she almost vanished from my mind completely when I thought I would never set eyes on her again. Why should I have tormented myself about something I couldn't have? Now, though, the door opens again, but my eagerness for romance has cooled down. Things are different at the moment, and my miserable, lonely existence has been filled and the vacuums are not so empty. I once thought myself in love with Esther, and maybe I'm actually in love with her, but I won't rush into anything. First, I need to see her, and then just time will tell.

Indistinct sounds outside my room snap me out of my considerations and memories. I prick up my ears, and I can hear voices and steps. I'd better get up and see who it is. There are no scheduled rides in or out today, I know as much. Sometimes when the boys have some free time, they go for a leisurely ride. I'll go and see if I can give them a hand with the horses, and maybe the activity will make me forget the aching in my abdomen.

When I step out of my room into the stables, I hear a shriek followed by a muffled 'No'. It's a woman's voice and seems to come from the hayloft. Naturally, I tense in alarm and my steps quicken. The boards above me creak and once again another shriek resounds. I have no idea what's going on, but it seems a woman is in some kind of trouble. I climb the ladder to the hayloft, and when I'm almost at the top, the same voice peals with laugher and says, "Oh Cody, you bad boy, what are you doing to me?"

That makes me hesitate. What's going on here? Silence ensues, and all I can hear is the creaking of the boards. Apparently, Cody has a woman up there, and I know I should climb down and return to my own space. I don't want to disturb them, especially Cody with whom I don't have a brilliant relationship. Yet, I admit I'm curious to have a peek at the woman who has voluntarily sought Cody's company. I guess there's nothing wrong if I make my presence known and introduce myself politely.

I'm decided, so I take up the last couple of rungs, and as my head emerges and I look, I'm welcome by an unexpected sight. I can see Cody's blonde hair and back as he hovers – or at least I think that's what he's doing – over the woman. Her small hands move up and down his back. The woman seems to be trapped under his body, and from where I stood on the ladder, I can see their faces close together and their mouths touching. I can well imagine they're kissing. This is obviously the first time I see a man and a woman kiss; I've only read about it before, but I ain't sure this is the way it should be done. If I didn't know better, I'd think they're actually attacking each other, biting one another viciously. Cody's practically devouring her lips. That must really hurt, but I don't see any signs of discomfort in her. My cheeks feel hot and a strange tingle is bubbling in my lower abdomen. I lower my eyes from their kissing faces, and by doing so I notice that the woman's skirt is hitched up to her knees. I can see the lace of her underwear. And that's not the worst. Cody's hand is on her knee and gradually creeps up under the material of her skirt. What on earth is he trying to touch down there?

"Oh God!"

I realize too late that I've spoken the words aloud. Instantly, Cody and his lady friend stop and look at me in shock. A deafening scream follows, which spurs me into action. I jump almost from the top of the ladder, and fall on my knees. A protest leaves my mouth as my legs complain in pain after the impact, but that's the only blip I allow myself. I scramble to my feet and dash down the corridor and into my room.

I'm breathing hard as I sink into my bed. The last thing I need is more problems with Cody, but evidently I've dived into big trouble with him headlong. I hear distressed voices and steps outside, but I don't move. Sooner or later, I'll have to face Cody and explain myself, and to my chagrin, I realize it's going to be sooner than later. "Lou!" his voice booms outside my room and my door rattles as I imagine he's thumping his fist on it. I rise to my feet and reluctantly go to the door. Cody must be angry, but I have nothing to fear. It's obvious I've seen something I shouldn't have, but how was I to know?

As I open the door, Cody is at my face at once. "What the hell do you think you were doing, Lou?" he barks angrily.

I don't let his anger or words spook me. "I'm sorry," I say, lifting my chin proudly to show him I have nothing to be ashamed or scared about. "I didn't know you were up there."

"You scared Anne away!" he rants in the same furious tone. "Do you realize what it took me to talk her into coming up to the hayloft with me? And she was forthcoming… letting me do anything! I could kill you right now, Lou!"

"I said I'm sorry!" I insist impatiently. "It was an accident, all right?"

Cody sighs, and to my surprise, his anger crumbles down and he gives me a resigned look. "I guess I'll have to take her somewhere less crowded next… that is, if she still lets me."

He starts walking down the stables, and I follow him. Now that he doesn't seem so annoyed, I feel bold enough to ask him about what I've just witnessed. "Are you and this Ann courting, Cody?"

"I… I guess," he answers vaguely.

"And shouldn't you have a chaperone when you're together?"

Cody titters amused. "Fortunately, the witch her mother is nursing a cold today, and she trusts me enough to let her daughter in my care unescorted."

"You looked… so, so close up there."

Cody gives me a crooked grin. "That's the point, don't you think, Lou?"

"But that ain't right. You ain't married," I reply as I recall my father's words. Is that the way babies are made? Does Cody want to have a child? Even though I'm dying to ask him, I feel that's going too far, and I don't dare.

Cody stops and turns up to me. "There's nothing wrong with having a little fun. Don't tell me you're a prude, Lou," He remarks, and since I have no idea what a prude is, I simply keep staring at him. "Oh Lou, I know what this is. No woman has ever given you the time of your day! Is that it?" I still don't say anything, and he bursts out laughing and says, "My Lou, you're so damn weird!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16**

_Lou_

There's still nobody inside the bunkhouse, only Rachel, when I arrive for lunch. I'm surprised that Cody hasn't rushed in as soon as the bell announcing the meal pealed across the property. It's incredible what a huge appetite he has, and I'm pretty sure he'd spend the whole day eating if he could. After our last clash the other day when I accidentally spied on him and his lady friend, he hasn't mentioned anything again, which I'm thankful for. I think he ain't even seeing this Anne any longer because he's lately been yakking about some other women at the dinner table. To be honest, his disregard about women and love shocks me. After what I've witnessed, one could think he and that girl were serious and considering marriage, but it seems I was totally mistaken. I don't want to think ill of Cody, or add something else to his black list, but from his attitude to women one would think he's an unscrupulous conqueror… like Mr. Wickham in "Pride and Prejudice". I can't condone that unconcerned behavior, but whatever Cody does is his business, not mine, and I don't want to get into further trouble with him. So I better keep my opinion to myself.

What has kept me worried these last days has been what Cody told me. His comment about me being weird. That has really stung my pride. Somehow I have the hunch they all share the same opinion about me. I have to admit – because there's no way I can deny it – that I'm physically different to the other men I come across. I'm small and short, and to my shame I realize I'm even smaller than some women, Rachel for one. I wish I had inherited my father's height and strong features instead of taking after my mother's weedy relatives. That's something I can't do anything about, and until now that hadn't been such a bother, and I shouldn't fret about that. What I don't like is to be pegged as odd. I just want to be average… just like everybody else. That's all.

"Hello, Rachel," I greet her, and she gives me a warm smile in response. As I leave my hat on the hanger by the door, I casually throw a glimpse at my reflection in the mirror. I pause and have a better look at it. My face looks as thin as usual, and my eyes stand out, big and dark on my tiny visage. I rake my fingers through my hair. It's grown way longer than what my father would have allowed. The ends of my wisps tingle the nape of my neck, and on the sides some of my hair stuck out irregularly.

In the small mirror I see Rachel's reflection as she stops behind me. "I can cut your hair when you want. I'm no barber, but I can do quite a decent job. Noah and Kid have never had any complaints as far as I know."

I smile and keep looking at our reflections. "I was thinking of letting it grow a bit," I say, flinching internally as I realize this is another transgression against my father I'm ready to make. Buck, Jimmy, and Cody wear their hair long, and that gives them a rough look, which I think is just what I need now.

Rachel nods appreciatively. With a sweet smile on her lips she places a hand on my shoulder and says, "You have such a pretty face for a boy."

A spontaneous grunt leaves my lips, and moving away from her I sink down on the bench. I slam my elbows down on the surface of the table and press my fingers against my forehead. I hear Rachel's steps and feel her presence behind me. "What have I said that clearly upsets you so much, Lou?"

"Rachel, I have enough on my plate with being smaller than most men my age, and now I'm pretty on top? Not handsome or simply damn ugly, but pretty! How can I not be upset? I'm already the butt of jokes and wisecracks as it is."

Rachel sits across from me and grins. "Oh Lou, you shouldn't be ashamed and look down on yourself like that. I can tell many men would want your fine face, and I bet even some ladies. Actually, I can imagine the girls might find you very attractive, indeed."

"Yes, sure," I let out sarcastically. Rachel's words don't appease me. I can't see Cody or Jimmy dying to be called pretty. Oh how I hate my body! No wonder my father used to scold me, likening my looks and behavior to that of a sissy. I didn't know what that word meant before, but now I do. It's like calling me a fake man, an effeminate version, a lie, and I'll be damned if I let anybody call me that now. My body may lack the substance and build of some men, but I'm as much of a man as anybody.

"Lou, please," Rachel carries on. "Don't get so distraught on my account. I meant what I said as a compliment."

I sigh. "I know that, but…"

"But what?"

I heave another sigh. "Nothing. I just don't know."

Rachel reaches out for my hand and pats it comfortingly. "Lou, you know, the way we look is simply a wrapper around our true selves, honey. What really matters is what we carry with us inside, how our souls are built."

"I guess," I admit reluctantly.

"Is your size or the way your face looks such a big problem for you?"

I look into her eyes. "I just don't want to be different."

Rachel chortles at my words, but not in an unpleasant way. "Honey, we're all different, and just let me tell you that the way you look can't be as troublesome as you believe. Don't you think Buck and Noah have had their share of problems in town because their skin is not the right color for some people? And don't get me started what it is like being a woman on my own. Honey, being different from the majority is what makes us unique. Otherwise, the world would be so boring."

I reflect upon Rachel's words, and I have to admit I've never seen things from her perspective before. I ain't sure why all this bothers me so much, but it's not just the way I look. I feel different on a much deeper level. The world is new and strange to me, and every day I try to embrace it in all its strangeness. I never thought it would take so much of me, and I naively believed I was familiar with the ways of the world because I've learned everything in my books. That shows my gullibility. Books don't teach you everything, I realize now.

The riders raucously dash into the bunkhouse a minute later and we all sit around the table for lunch.

"Mr. Cody, it must be the first time you haven't barged in as soon as I called for lunch," Rachel teases him.

"Uh… I had to run an errand in town. That's all," he mutters, pinning the napkin to his collar and ready to attack his food.

As I eat Rachel's stew, I realize that Cody is looking at me with unconcealed amusement. "What?" I snap cockily, irritated once again. Even silent, this man has the knack of blowing my top. Why can't he leave me alone and shift his sights to someone else for a change?

"Nothing, Lou. Don't bite me, please," he replies derisively. "I was simply thinking about Saturday's social and whether you'd be joining us."

"Of course he will. Why shouldn't he?" Rachel replies on my behalf.

A social! That means I'll probably see Esther there. I remember her chattering about socials and how much she liked them. That will be my chance to cross ways with her. Last Sunday I went to church with Rachel, hoping to see her, but Esther wasn't among the attendees. And I still haven't had the opportunity to ask Kid. We are always around somebody else, and this is something I don't want to talk about in the presence of other people, especially if that other person is Cody.

As soon as the idea of a social and meeting Esther fills me with eagerness, I'm also defeated by a sudden problem. "But I can't dance," I mutter forlornly.

"That's no problem, Lou. Most of us have two left feet," Kid says.

"And you have enough time to learn the basics," Rachel adds. "We can rehearse together for Saturday."

"Thanks," I mutter, and from the corner of my eye, I still can see Cody's teasing smile, but I decide to pay him no heed. I just focus on the conversation around the table. Teaspoon ain't here today to regale us with one of his stories. The others often tease him about his verbosity and roll their eyes dramatically when Teaspoon embarks on one of his soliloquies. In my case, I like listening to him; he's like a living book with no end, and whenever I have the privilege to hear him, I always feel the burning desire to live those same adventures one day. Teaspoon's had such a fascinating, full life, and even had six wives. I'm not sure if all his wives are dead, or just estranged, but if that's the case and he's been widowed six times, he's really unlucky. He claims to be a romantic, but I don't know if I could call him that. I feel more moved by the story of my parents. After my mother's death, my father didn't try to find a replacement, respecting her memory and love in his heart. Maybe it would have been better for both of us if he had remarried, but I feel proud of him, knowing that he loved my mother so much that he chose to be alone rather than get a poor substitute for her. Maybe one day I'll be lucky to find someone as special as my mother was for my father, and I just hope I ain't struck by the same misfortune my poor parents had in the end.

My thoughts halt when I feel something sticky and hot plop onto my chest. I look down and notice a dark glob splashing the front of my white shirt.

"Cody, watch out," Buck exclaims.

I lift my eyes, and realize that Cody's standing figure is hovering over me. In his hands he's holding an awry plate, and the chocolate sauce Rachel dabs her desserts with is dripping from the rim. Cody's trying to stop the flow with his fingers, but some is already on my shirt. "Sorry, Lou, I don't know how this happened."

This is just incredible! I'm so fed up with damn Cody. Why the hell doesn't he leave me alone? Even when eating quietly, he's still being such a pain in the neck. I don't know if this has been a clumsy accident, or if he's done it on purpose, but when he talks, his eyes shine with amusement and his mouth is stifling the teasing grin I can feel in him.

With my napkin I try to remove some of the chocolate from my front, but all I manage is to smear it all through my shirt and spread it even further. "Cody, I had my doubts, but now I'm certain. You're a clumsy idiot," Jimmy remarks, not missing an opportunity to jab at his friend.

"Hey, it was an accident!" Cody protests, licking his chocolate-coated fingers and walking to his place on the bench. "Accidents happen, don't they, Lou?" he adds, fixing his gaze on me. As his words clearly echo my excuse for spying on him and his woman days ago, I'm pretty sure now he's done this on purpose.

I grunt as I look down and see the big chocolate smudge on what used to be my white shirt. "Lou, you better get out of that at once," Rachel says. "Just leave it to me, and you'll have your shirt back as good as new."

I nod and get up from my seat. As I close the door behind me, I can hear Cody's chuckles. I stop to breathe in and out several times to steady my growing irritation before walking away. I tell myself that this is just silly, and I shouldn't let Cody get to me like this. He tries his hand with the other riders too, but they simply brush him off. I shouldn't give his stunts so much importance, and when he realizes I don't care about what he does, he'll surely leave me alone.

I reach the stables and as I approach my room, I start to undo the buttons of my vest. At least, that has been saved from being soiled. I open the door, and as I step inside, I slide off the vest and drop it on a chair. My eyes are focused on my hands, and as my fingers work on the top button of my shirt, a voice startles me. "Hello, handsome."

I spin around and to my surprise I see there's a woman in my room… in my bed! She's lying on her side, and her head leans on her flexed arm. I've never seen this woman before. She ain't too young, and judging by her creased countenance, I'd say she must be around Teaspoon's age. Her face looks strange and even comical, with lips brightly shining with some kind of red goo, and her eyelids are also covered with some dark powder.

"Who are you?" I demand to know.

The woman grins to reveal a noticeable gap in her teeth, and very slowly she moves to a sitting position. "Me, honey? I'm just the answer to all your problems."

"What?" I ask clumsily, and the woman then drops the fringed shawl around her shoulders onto my bed. The dress she is wearing is as red as her lips and quite sparse in fabric, leaving her sagging arms and top chest bare. Even her skirt doesn't have the average length, and her calves and knees are visible. To my shock, the woman comes to me in a few strides, and without preambles her fingers start to unfasten the buttons of my soiled shirt. "Love, this is something you're gonna treasure for years to come. Trust sweet Charito to give you a very enjoyable time."

I take a step backwards and push her hands away from me roughly. "What the hell are you doing?" I bluster indignantly.

The woman seems unfazed by my irritated rebuke. "There's no reason to get yourself worked up like that," she insists, turning on all her charm, and her hands slither over my shoulders. "There's nothing to be afraid of, not even for a greenhorn like you. Just relax and let sweet Charito do everything for you." Before I have the chance to speak, the woman's wet, sticky lips creep on my neck, and I flinch in horror and disgust.

My body reacts instinctively, and my hands push her with even more force than before, sending her against the wall. That doesn't sit well with her, and the expression of her face drastically changes to fierce outrage. "Who the hell do you think you are to treat me like this?" she barks, rubbing her hands on her hips, which I imagine are sore after bumping against the wall.

"Look, I haven't the faintest idea who you are, and honestly I couldn't care less," I say in a dry voice. "And now I command you to leave."

For demonstration I pull the door wide open and step aside. The woman scoffs, picks up her shawl, and keeps muttering furiously as she bolts outside. My eyes follow her figure, and as I look out, I see Kid and Jimmy march down the corridor towards me, followed by Cody who is guffawing at some private joke, I can guess. I stiffen when I realize that they're going to discover this strange woman with me. What if they think this woman is something to me? And worse what if they tell Teaspoon?

To my utter astonishment the woman breaks the silence when she spots the riders. "Cody, what's the problem with your little friend? Is he some kind of pansy or what?"

"Not everybody can appreciate your charms," Cody replies as he stops next to her.

I'm so stunned that I can hardly say a word. This was just one of Cody's pranks, and now I realize that his pouring the chocolate over my shirt was a purposeful trick to get me into my room where this woman was waiting.

"Ma'am, we won't take any more of your time now, and you know the way out," Jimmy points out without any expected politeness, tilting his head at the big doors at the end of the corridor.

"Oh on the contrary, love. I still have plenty of time to spare. Maybe you'll be more welcoming than this midget here," the woman offers, wiggling her very thin eyebrows, but Jimmy shakes his head in negative. "Or maybe you," she adds, turning to Kid with a wide smile. "Otherwise, it'd be a waste of my time and your generous friend's money."

Kid lifts his hands as if in surrender, and says, "Thanks, but no, Ma'am."

"Let me walk you out," Jimmy steps in, obviously eager to get rid of the woman. Spreading his arms, he circles Cody and the woman as if he was herding a flock of sheep, and he steers them in the direction of the door. At mid way Cody turns his head to find my stunned face and bursts out laughing.

"Come on, Cody!" Jimmy snaps in irritation. "Stop being such an idiot for once."

"I only wanted to do you a favor, Lou!" Cody calls behind his back.

The echo of his words and laughter, and their steps reverberate in the silence of the stables. I stand under the threshold of my door, and I don't really know what to do of this new nonsense. I ain't sure whether to be angry, sad, or flattered that Cody could go to such lengths just to have a laugh at me. I'm in a state of confusion, and I almost jump out of my skin when a voice sounds by my side. "I'm sorry Cody doesn't seem to have an ounce of common sense sometimes," Kid says in a soft voice. I had completely forgotten he was here at all. "We didn't know what he was up to until you were gone from the bunkhouse."

I nod. "Who was that woman?"

"She's a… a lady of the night… a prostitute," he explains and I can see the tips of his ears flush in embarrassment.

"Like Mary Magdalene."

Kid grins. "Yes, but I bet she ain't so saintly."

I keep silent. I have a rough understanding of what a prostitute is. Pa was never forthcoming to explain those passages in the Bible in which women were depicted in that way. He simply said that a prostitute was a single woman who sinned by doing what only married women were allowed to do. He never elaborated, but I intuited that their sin had something to do with men and woman lying together.

"What does a prostitute do?" I suddenly ask Kid. I feel comfortable enough around him to speak about things that were off limits with Pa.

Kid blushes even hotter. "Oh Lou, you know…"

"No, I _don't_ know. That's why I'm asking you."

Kid clears his throat, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other in obvious discomfort. "A prostitute… uh … is a lady men pay for some entertainment."

"What kind of entertainment?" I press on.

"The kind that should be reserved to men and women joined in holy matrimony. You know, what married folks do in the bedroom," Kid replies, and I don't think he could get hotter than he is on his face now.

"And there are really women who get paid for that?" I ask in surprise. I ain't sure about the details of what men and women do… just what I saw Cody and his woman do the other day, but I am confused. You are supposed to do that when you're married and in love. Why would anybody pay for that?

"Yeah… I… I guess there are a lot of solitary folks in the world, or… or men that ain't satisfied with what they have at home," he says in a somber tone, but he grins again as he adds, "Naturally, the women in the saloon are usually younger and better-looking than Cody's pick for you, but you know, that must be all he could afford with him being always so tight with money."

I nod, and now I understand what I saw the first day at the saloon between men and women there. "Thanks, Kid. I… I know next to nothing about this man-woman thing."

"I don't know much more, at least, as far as experience goes," he says honestly.

I force a rueful smile on my face, and turning from him, I dash back into my room and plop down onto my bed. "Are you all right, Lou?" Kid asks from his position at the door.

"I'm fine," I reply, and my dry tone clearly contradicts my words.

Kid walks into the room and sits down on the bed next to me. "Here," he says, offering me his white handkerchief, and as I stare at it uncomprehendingly, he adds, "You have a red mark on your neck." He points at the spot on his own neck to show me the area in which that woman's gooey lips have left their signature.

I grunt and make an unhappy expression, and grabbing his handkerchief, I rub my neck with it gruffly. "I'm just sick and tired of Cody going out of his way to make fun of me and play me for a fool."

"I wouldn't take it to heart, Lou," he replies, putting his handkerchief back into his pocket. "Cody's actually a nice fella, but he's always after a good laugh. We've all been victims of his wisecracks and practical jokes. He's had his fun with us already, so now that you're the new boy, it's your turn now."

I sigh. "I don't know, Kid. I feel so alien… so different here. All I want is to feel I belong… just to be like all of you."

"That's what we all want, Lou, and I don't think you're so different," he contradicts me. "You're just having a hard time because you've never been around folks too much. You just need to learn and adjust, and I'm happy to teach you."

I smile gratefully and look up, and by doing so I stumble upon Kid's eyes. They are an intense blue hue, and seem like a clear mirror where it's easy to see all the good and honesty I can perceive out of him. I hadn't noticed his eyes before, and now I realize why Kid's always inspired me such peace, trust and comfort.

"You really have very nice eyes, Kid." At my spontaneous words he looks away and his expression stiffens as he squirms by my side. I notice his discomfort, and I want to know what I've done to cause this change in him. "Have I said something wrong?"

"Uh… you don't say things like that to another fella," he mutters. "We men aint' supposed to appreciate another man's looks even though, you know, we ain't blind. It ain't just proper."

I heave another sigh, and, frustrated, I punch the mattress under me with my tightly closed fists. "You see? As soon as I open my mouth, I say something that brands me as nothing but an odd fish. Don't you see what I mean?"

"Lou, it ain't such a big deal. I told you. All you need is to learn the steps to move around people… it's like with dancing, and I'm willing to show you all those steps. Soon you'll be dancing your way around us as if you had been here all your life. You're not weird, just out of practice."

I look at him skeptically. "Dancing?"

He smiles from ear to ear. "Yes, dancing. Just like that."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17**

_Lou_

"Lou, come on!" Kid calls, poking his head into my bedroom where I stand before the mirror in an attempt to tame my wild, short hair with a comb.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Stop harassing me, will you?" I reply a bit too impatiently.

"I don't understand why you have to make such a fuss about this. We're just walking into town, and who cares how you look anyway!"

Instead of replying to his clear attempt to wind me up, I simply put the comb down and announce, "All right. I'm ready to go now."

"It was high time," he quips, giving me a friendly jab on my back, which almost makes me tumble down. I respond to his provocation by kicking him in the shin. "Hey, that hurt!" he protests more energetically than could be expected, and I know he's simply mocking me.

We laugh as we saunter down the stables. The social is within two days, and Kid has offered to help me choose a suit for the occasion. He's told me that not all men wear their Sunday bests to socials, but it's usually the norm to don your nicest togs. My only clothes are those I use every day for work, so I know I need something I can also wear to church. I'm not sure if I can trust myself to choose the right attire, so I'm thankful I can rely on Kid. He says there's no way I can go wrong when choosing a jacket and a pair of pants, but I feel more confident if he gives me his blessing.

I'm quite excited and nervous about the social. It's going to be my very first dance, and I'm really looking forward to it. Rachel has been trying to teach me some dancing. It ain't as difficult as I imagined it'd be. It's just a question of sliding your feet around, twirling, and swinging. Without any music it feels ridiculous, but Rachel assures me that when I dance to the tunes the band's gonna play on Saturday, it'll be twice as easy. She says I ain't as clumsy as some of the men she's danced with and supposedly knew their steps. That pleases me, and I guess I'm gifted in the skill and I actually like it. That means that if I get to dance with a girl on Saturday, I won't make a fool of myself in front of the whole town. Rachel has promised me a dance, and I secretly hope Esther will be there and agree to join me on the dancing floor.

Kid stops before Katy's stall and opens the door. "I thought we'd be walking to town," I point out.

"We are, but I'm gonna leave Katy at the blacksmith's. She lost a shoe yesterday, and I have a ride early tomorrow. I'd do it myself, but this afternoon Teaspoon has scheduled a whole list of chores that I'm afraid will take me till midnight."

I narrow my eyes as he slides the harness down Katy's neck. "Kid, if you weren't coming to town with me, you could see to Katy's shoeing," I say, hinting at what he hasn't mentioned.

"Probably," he replies honesty. "But that ain't the case because I have a previous commitment with you."

"You're released if you feel you need to stay and sort out your matters. You really have no obligation to me at all."

"Nonsense," Kid replies, flapping his hand in a disregarding manner. "It was me who volunteered, wasn't it? The blacksmith will do a much better job than me, and Katy'll surely appreciate the change. Besides, I can't risk you ending up with hideous duds that make you look like a clown. The Pony Express has a reputation to keep, and Cody already lowers our standards as it is."

I grin, amused by his comments, and my mood lifts. Kid pulls Katie out of the stall, and leads her out of the stables with the reins. In silence we head for town, and after a few quiet minutes I drop a casual remark, "Cody told me he's escorting his friend Anne to the social." After almost two weeks of hearing no mention of the girl I saw him kiss in the stables, I was surprised by his announcement. I imagine they must have had a temporary fall out, and they have made up recently.

"Is he?" Kid replies without much enthusiasm.

I nod and ask, "What about you? Are you going with a girl?"

Kid shakes his head. "No, not me." His expression is almost sad, and his lips are pursed together, evidence that my question has touched a nerve. "I ain't very lucky with women, I'm afraid."

"Are you still interested in that girl you told us about? Debbie… is it?"

"I guess so. And if you happened to lay eyes on her, you'd understand why I like her. She's beautiful."

"And she's also committed to somebody else," I shyly point out.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Are you in love with her?" I ask again, and at my question Kid jerks his head towards me as if I had slapped him, and he starts chuckling. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that love ain't a very common conversation I'd have with another fella."

"I ain't another fella. I'm your friend, remember?"

Kid nods with a wide grin. "Yes, I guess you're right."

"So?" I press on, staring at him wide-eyed and eager for his reply to my question.

He chuckles again as he says, "You can be a real pest with all your questions." I simply shrug my shoulders, and when I think he ain't gonna say anything to me, he starts, "No, I… I don't think I'm in love. I hardly know her."

"And beauty ain't everything in a woman."

Kid gives me a suspicious look as he remarks, "You sound very knowledgeable about women and love all of a sudden."

All I know about romance comes from my books and my own imagination, and that hardly qualifies me as an expert in human relationships. "I'm not," I reply with the truth. "It's just common sense."

"I gather you've never fallen in love… with you being in the mountains alone with your pa," Kid remarks casually, but my pregnant silence logically speaks volumes. He turns his wary eyes to me, and asks, "Lou, what ain't you telling me? Please spit it out."

I blush as I sheepishly say, "A month or so ago I met a girl near my home."

"So you and her…?"

"No!" I cut him off before he got the wrong idea. I can't say there was something more than friendship between Esther and me; that would be a lie, and I've been taught all my life to loathe deceit. "I… I thought I felt something special for her, but I ain't really sure if that was love. In any case, my father found out we were friends and put an end to it."

"Your father?"

I feel my face flame in embarrassment. "Uh… my father is very particular about other people," I mutter, unsure how to explain pa's peculiarities about my safety without sounding like a pathetic weakling. "Anyway, she returned to town in the end."

"She's from Rock Creek?"

I bob my head up and down. "And I hope to see her on Saturday."

Kid gives me an encouraging smile, and we walk on in companiable silence. When we reach the blacksmith's, he leads his horse into the place while I wait for him outside. I let my body rest against a tethering post while my eyes scan the passersby without much interest. The city this morning is as busy as usual with people, horses, and wagons mingling in a harmonized little chaos. I still feel like a stranger here, and apart from the people I work with and a couple of store owners, I know nobody else.

Suddenly, among the throngs of strange faces a familiar visage arises. Esther! She's ambling along the covered walkway opposite where I stand. She's with a couple of girls, and I ain't surprised to see her chattering away and obviously being the leading voice of her small group. I smile, and before I can consider my actions, I shout her name. "Esther!" At my summon the three girls stop and look in my direction. I wave my arms, drawing invisible arches above my head, and once again I let my impulses rule my will when I shot towards her.

My mouth is smiling from ear to ear when I reach her. Esther stares at me as if she were seeing a ghost. I understand her surprise. I politely remove my hat, and tilt my head to the other girls before shifting my whole attention back to Esther. "You were right about us meeting again."

"Lou…" she whispers, and her expression of bewilderment doesn't fade for one moment.

"It's so good to see you," I blurt out because I can't conceal the joy I feel. I've missed her friendship, and I really hope we can pick up where we left off now that I live in Rock Creek.

"What… what are you doing here?" she asks, and I notice that she keeps flicking her eyes nervously to her friends, who are studying me with serious expressions. I can understand she's jittery and uncomfortable before these two girls, strangers to me. I'd rather our re-acquaintance take place in privacy, but that matters little to me. I'm just glad to see her.

"I live in Rock Creek now," I explain happily. "Seeing you is a very pleasant surprise. I was hoping to run into you at the town social on Saturday, but this is much better."

Esther smiles, but I can tell she's tense and awkward. This shy side of hers is new to me, but I imagine there's so much about her I still need to learn. One of the girls clears her throat to draw Esther's attention and says, "Aren't you going to introduce us, dear?"

"Uh… yes," Esther stammers. "This… this is Lou, uh… he's an acquaintance of my family."

At her words the smile I've worn since seeing her vanishes instantly. An acquaintance? Of her family? I ain't sure what game she's playing, but I don't like it. Obviously, our meeting doesn't mean much to her, and I realize I've been deluding myself with a fantasy which was not true. Uncomfortable, I shift my eyes away and get a glimpse of Kid coming out of the blacksmith's.

"My friend's waiting for me. I've got to go now," I say in a stiff tone.

I notice Esther and the two other girls direct their eyes behind me, and then share a look as if they were sharing a secret. "Your… your friend?" Esther asks me.

"I now work at the way station," I simply say in the same dry tone. I'm so disappointed and hurt that I just want to return to the station. Why should I bother now to buy a suit? What for? What's the point of going to the social now? Esther has expressed her feelings loud and clear. "I guess I'll see you around."

I swivel around and barely have I taken a few steps when I hear my name being called. I look behind my back, and see Esther almost running after me. "Lou, wait, please!"

Despite myself, I stop, folding my arms as if the barrier they form could spare me from further hurt. "What do you want?" I snap when she halts before me.

"Please, Lou, don't get angry with me."

"What do you care?" I retort. "After all, I'm just an acquaintance of your family."

Esther smiles, and this time the smile comes out naturally and free. "Oh, sweetheart, don't take that to heart, please."

"I thought we were friends."

"And we are! And I'm happy to see you. Honestly." She pauses and lowers her voice. "It's just that those two are nothing but a pair of nosey busybodies. I hate my matters to be the talk of these lazy women. I don't even know why I bother with them. I'm just a fool. Lou, I'd hate to lose your friendship over this. We had something special going on, didn't we?"

Her words disarm me, and my anger crumbles down. I realize that I'm ready to hold onto any flight excuse she gives me for her previous odd behaviour if that means I can have her back as a friend. How can I hold her weird attitude against her when she says those sweet things about us?

My lips stretch into a wide smile, and as I look at her, I see her eyes are glancing at something else. I follow her gaze behind me to fall onto Kid. Before I had the chance to speak up, Esther beats me to it. "Hello, Kid."

Kid simply answers to her greeting by nodding his head. His expression is serious. I imagine he must be surprised to find me talking to Esther. With all probability he's putting two and two together, and suspects that Esther is the girl I was previously telling him about. "I didn't know you two were acquainted," I say after a beat.

"Lou, this ain't a big town," Esther replies. "I told you. Almost everybody knows everybody." She speaks to me but her eyes are directed to Kid. I imagine she expects him to confirm her words, but he keeps quiet and serious.

Suddenly, to my surprise Esther takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. "Kid, do you know Lou and I forged a very sweet friendship a while back? He's a terrific boy and a better person."

She smiles at me and keeps holding my hand. I'm blushing and smiling uncomfortable.

"I know that," Kid deadpans, and I find it quite strange to see his usual easy smile completely gone. In fact, he has never looked so serious before, and I can't help but wonder if there is something wrong.

Esther ignores him as her eyes are focused on me. "Lou, what were you telling me about Saturday's social?"

"I plan on attending it."

"Then I'd better make sure my dancing card is left blank… just for you," Esther replies cheerfully, which leaves me light-hearted. I don't know what to say, and I'm saved from my own awkwardness as she adds, "I'm afraid I need to go now. It was good seeing you, gentlemen."

Esther lets go of my hand and in her usual boisterous self she dashes after her two disputable friends. I'm still smiling from ear to ear as I turn to Kid. "Ain't this something?" I exclaim. "You knew Esther all along, and stupid me never considered that could be a possibility."

"Shall we get a move on, Lou?" Kid replies to my comment with the same severity he has been shown till now. "We don't have all day to waste."

"Oh yes," I reply awkwardly as we resume walking towards the store. I don't know what is wrong with Kid, but right now I don't care and don't bother to question him. After seeing Esther I'm bubbling with excitement and joy. Our re-encounter may have started off on the wrong foot, but I reflect it was logical. Esther didn't expect to see me, and the surprise threw her. That was why she was acting so bizarrely. After those first strange moments, she was back to her old self… the girl I know. She looks as pretty and elegant as always. Today I realized she had a new hairdo, a beautiful chignon that highlighted her lovely jaw lines. What man could not feel awed in her presence? I definitely do, and I'm glad she didn't say a word about the last time we saw each other. I don't' want to imagine what she must have thought of me when my father intercepted us. She must have gotten scared, and I've often wondered if she might have decided she didn't want to befriend somebody with such a father. Thankfully, I was wrong, and Esther seems to further pursue our friendship. My hand is still warm from the contact with her gloved one, and I blush in please at the thought.

"I'm really looking forward to Saturday," I proclaim happily.

Kid gives me a sideways look. "Lou, can I say something?"

"Yes, of course."

"Please be careful around… your friend Esther."

His words take me off guard, and I stare at him open-mouthed, wondering what he's trying to say. "What… what do you mean?"

"Some… some women can become a danger to men's hearts, and let's be honest, Lou, you are quite green."

After hearing him, I grow miffed, not because of what he says about me, which is basically true, but because of his warning against Esther. He has no right to imply something so dark and malicious about her. "You're wrong. Esther's not like that. I know her. She's my friend."

"All I'm saying is to watch out. You sound too… keen for your own good. Lou, you're a good person, and I'd hate to see you being hurt."

That doesn't soothe my irritation. I know Kid means well, and he's been an invaluable help in my exploration of this new world in these last weeks. Yet, I hate feeling like a naïve fool that is likely to be tricked and wronged, and I loathe realizing that is the way the others see me. I know how to take care of myself, and I don't need a stupid guardian angel that keeps reminding me of my inexperience.

I lift my irritated eyes to him, and in a stiff tone I say, "Thanks for your concern, but it ain't required here. I ain't an idiot, Kid, and I know what I'm doing."

"I know you're not an idiot. I just…"

"Could you please drop it?" I cut him off roughly, losing my patience. "I ain't your business, and I won't talk about me or Esther anymore, understood?"

Kid nods slowly, and I could tell that my rough rebuke has stung his pride. "As you wish." His tense expression eventually relaxes and for the first time he gives me a smile. "And I'm sorry, Lou. You're right."

I relax as well and even smile. "You don't know Esther as well as I do. She's my good friend."

"Then I have nothing to say," he concludes, and without another word, we silently continue our way to the store. My irritation is gone, and all I can think of is Saturday and how much fun I'm going to have. Esther and I will dance, joke and talk just like when we were in the mountains. And even Kid will join us in our conversation and will realize that she's good. I know she is.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18**

_Lou_

Saturday is finally here, and I'm ready to leave for town. I can't deny I'm nervous and even apprehensive about tonight. Most of Rock Creek's citizens will be gathered in the town's hall, and the idea doesn't totally thrill me. Maybe some of my father's feelings about people have rubbed off on me, and that's why the idea of being in a crowded room and under scrutiny makes me so insecure. I'd hate it if I foolishly slipped and made a show of myself for my ignorance in front of everybody, especially Esther. I tell myself my fears are ridiculous. I need to focus on having fun and relaxing just like Kid has told me dozens of times. Yet, however much I repeat my self-encouragement, the effect is nearly null.

It doesn't help much that my new suit feels so alien and constraining. My throat is contrived in the tight hold of the collar of my new white shirt, and my slender body gets lost in my too big jacket. This is the smallest size Tompkins had in his store, and even so, it doesn't fit me as it should be expected. The sleeves are way too long, and even though I've tried to roll the cuffs, they keep unfolding and coming over my hands. And the bottom rim almost reaches the middle of my thighs. When I first tried it on, Kid assured me I didn't look too bad, but I don't know. I have the sensation I look like a grotesque clown.

I slowly make my way across the yard, and I notice the riders and Rachel are already waiting. I smile and lift my hand in greeting. When Rachel sees me, her eyes scrutinize me from head to toe. "Lou, let me help you with that bow of yours," she says, coming closer to me, and before I could say there's no need, she pulls it from one end, undoing it. "It's a bit crooked," she explains and her deft fingers quickly knot the material around my neck in a few seconds, something that took me almost fifteen minutes to do myself.

"Perfect," she announces with a smile, admiring her job. She turns her head to the bunkhouse and unexpectedly hollers. "Cody! If you don't come out this very second, we're leaving without ya."

I hadn't realized Cody was missing, and almost as soon as Rachel's words are out, the door opens and he steps onto the porch. "Rachel, there's no need to get into such a huff," he says, smoothing his blonde, longish hair with his hand and strutting to us like a pompous peacock. "Just a little patience is all I ask. Unlike these boys here, I do care how I look and present myself to the ladies tonight."

The other riders smirk and roll their eyes, probably tired of hearing his hogwash too often. Rachel doesn't bother to comment on his words and says instead, "Let's go then."

She hooks her arm around Buck's, and they lead the way to town. Jimmy and Noah follow, and as I'm about to take a first step, I notice Cody by my side, eyeballing me with unconcealed amusement. "Lou, you really look smashing tonight," he quips, flashing a grin that lets me know that he means anything but what he says. "Be careful, my friend. The girls are likely to swoon as soon as they see you, and we wouldn't like to witness a tragedy." Then he bursts out laughing.

"Shut up, Cody," Kid orders, giving him a powerful push. Cody stumbles and his guffaw echoes and wafts to us as he follows his other friends towards town.

I shake my head as my spirits take a sudden plunge. The idiot can't just ruin the night for me, but I know his mockery affects me more than I should let it. As I look up and find Kid, I voice my fears. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you."

"Are you sure I look all right?" I ask again, sweeping my eyes over my body encased in my new suit.

"Lou, you look fine. Don't let Cody get to you. He's just pulling your leg, and let me tell you that he keeps badgering you because you let yourself get upset over him, so you're easy prey for his wisecracks."

I shake my head morosely as we start walking. "I can't help it, Kid. The way he talks… I… He just sounds as if people believe I'm not man enough."

"Whatever others think shouldn't make you fret so much. Or do you actually feel you ain't as good a man as anybody?"

"Of course not!" I promptly reply.

"Then don't let anybody tell you otherwise, all right?"

I nod, and in silence I swear I'm going to show Cody and the whole world that nobody messes up with me. I'm as tough and manly as any of them. Nobody is going to look down on me simply because I'm smaller than the majority. I'm also strong, and I have good muscles that prove it. No work is too hard for me to skive. Cody wouldn't say the same and he's the one to use the first excuse he can come up with to shirk his responsibilities. And he dares to ridicule me!

Damn Cody! I shout in my head. I should heed Kid and stop getting so worked up by Cody's stupid stunts and jest. He won't spoil tonight for me, and I plan to have good fun. I mustn't forget the important part: I'm meeting Esther! That should be enough reason to lift my spirit and stop my worries over Cody.

I force myself to smile as I follow Kid into the social hall. The place is already packed, and I stick to my friend's side, feeling his presence as a protective shield. When we stop where the other riders stand, I scan my surroundings. Naturally this ain't as I imagined it'd be. There are no chandeliers, delicate decoration or a big orchestra just like the dances I've read about. I am in just a spacious room dimly lit by several oil lamps, and at the far end two tables offer refreshments the local ladies have kindly brought along. The cheerful music comes from three men that are playing a banjo, a fiddle and a harmonica, and couples are dancing to the lively tunes in the middle of the room. Despite the lack of fripperies, I have to say there's a lovely atmosphere, and I doubt I'd prefer the other more literary dances. People here seem relaxed and content and I don't think any extra additions would make much of a difference to the jovial ambiance.

I shift my eyes to Kid, and I notice that his attention is drawn to a dancing couple. His expression speaks volumes, and I can rightly guess that the girl must be Debbie, his love interest. She ain't too bad looking, I have to admit, but to be honest, I can't understand his fascination. I don't know why, but there's something in her bearing that gives me negative vibes. Kid shouldn't pine for her, especially since she's already involved with somebody else. I'm sure Kid could find a much nicer girl even if he claims he's very unlucky with women.

Debbie's dancing partner has excused himself, leaving her alone, probably going to grab some refreshment. Despite my reservations about the girl, I feel moved to meddle. Kid couldn't be more obvious, and his dejected expression triggers my compassion. I want to do something for him, and without stopping to think about it twice, I blurt out, "Why don't you ask her to dance? Here's your chance." Kid gives me a skeptical look, and as I foresee what he's going to say, I add, "It's just a dance, what's the worst that can happen? She might decline politely, that's all."

Kid stares at me, and smiles. I tilt my head towards the girl in encouragement, and I have to stifle a chuckle when his countenance blanches. It's incredible to believe that someone like Kid could look so scared and sick with worry at the prospect of approaching the girl he likes. I even have to give him a shove, and he finally walks up to Debbie.

From my position I can see him sheepishly talking to her, and … lo and behold, she's nodding in agreement. Kid is obviously delighted and on cloud nine as he leads the girl to join the other dancing partners. When they start swinging to the tune, Kid catches my eye and winks. I smile, but as soon as he can't see me, my face sobers. I should be happy for him, but the image of them together makes me uncomfortable, and I wish I hadn't interfered. A strange pressure squeezes my chest, and for some reason I don't like what I'm witnessing. Maybe it's just a bad omen I feel very strongly, and illogical as it is, I want Kid to let go of that woman.

"Hello, Lou."

I look away, and my mouth automatically splits into a smile when my eyes fall on Esther's face. She looks lovely. Her long, blonde hair is hanging loose with just a blue ribbon around her head, embellishing her soft tresses. Her dress is in the same blue shade, and I think no other woman in the room is wearing something as beautiful… as perfect.

"You look very nice in that dress," I compliment her politely.

My words seem to please her, and her expression lights up. "Why, thanks, Lou. You don't look too bad yourself."

I don't know whether her comment is genuine praise or she's simply teasing my looks. I don't bother to consider her words any further, and as we stand in the middle of the room, I ain't sure what else to say. Esther sweeps her eyes around, and as Kid and Debbie dance past us, she says, "Your friend Kid doesn't waste his time, I can see."

"Uh… I guess."

"Come on, Lou. Let's show this clumsy town how it is done properly."

Before I could say anything, she grabs my hand and pulls me along. I stumble after her to the dancing floor. Her last remark has sent me in a panic. Esther can't actually believe I'm any good at dancing. Rachel has only taught me some basic steps, but I'm far from being an expert. Esther knows I don't go to dances. I told her months ago when we first met, and I hope she remembers that and doesn't harbor any high expectations about my dancing expertise.

My cheeks feel hot with embarrassment and shyness when I take her hand and place mine on her back as we start swaying to the music. I feel clumsy, and I'm afraid of stepping on her feet. When the first song finishes, I'm relieved to see I have danced safely and without incident. As Esther promised me days before, she has saved all the dances for me and hogs my presence and attention tune after tune. We spin and sway past Kid several times, and I observe that after that first dance with Debbie, he hasn't asked her or any other girl again. He simply stands in a discreet corner, talking to his friends.

"I'm so hot," Esther exclaims, fanning her gloved hand in front of her flustered face after then umpteenth dance of the night. "Shall we step outside for a spell?"

"Sure," I reply, and before I could direct my steps in the direction of the door, she grabs my hand and drags me along on some other detour leading away from the exit.

I expect she wants to have some punch or maybe a piece of cake, but she whizzes past the refreshment tables without even sparing a look. We're about to go past Kid and Cody, but Esther stops to address them. "We're going out for some fresh air."

Esther doesn't linger to hear any comments they might have and leads the way to the door, releasing the hold on my hand. Before I follow suit, I make the mistake to look at Cody. What a surprise! He's smirking at me, and his mocking expression doesn't falter as he says, "Hurry up, little Lou! Your nanny's going, and we don't want you to get lost in the crowd, do we?"

"You're such a fool, Cody," I retort clumsily. He always baffles me with his stupid comments and insults, and I never know how to counterattack. To be honest, I feel more like a fool than he is, and I wish for once I had the wit to come up with something clever to retort.

Cody then surprises me as he rests a hand on my shoulder. He gazes into my eyes, and I notice that his previous amusement is gone. "Heed me here, Lou, and don't let Miss Esther Turner play with you as if you were a poor child because small and all, you ain't one."

His words incense me even more than his usual mockery. I swat his hand off my shoulder and bark, "Go to hell, Cody!"

I almost run out of the building. Esther must have noticed something out of sorts on my expression because she asks, "Are you all right, Lou?"

I plaster a fake smile on my lips when I say, "Everything's fine."

"Let's stroll then," she adds, and hooking her arm around mine, we start walking under the stars. There is a magnificent full moon tonight, and any other time I'd relish the beauty above me, but tonight I couldn't care less.

I can't concentrate on my surroundings, the woman by my side, or her nonstop chattering. All I can think of is Cody and his humiliating comment. Not only is he continuously questioning my worth and mocking my inexperience, but also he's now making fun of my relationship with Esther. I'm no child or an idiot, I swear I'm going to show Cody and the rest of the world what I'm really like. Nobody knows me, nobody. How dare he? I'm so angry than I'm close to exploding, but silently I tell myself to get a grip. Now ain't the time to wallow in such a negativity or else, I'll be doing just what I intended to avoid at all costs tonight. Yet, I can't mollify my soaring anger, and I keep thinking I want to punch Cody and strangle him, and show him for once who he's coming against.

A persistent yank on my elbow pulls me out of my thoughts, and I stop to find Esther's frowning face. "Lou, are you sure you're all right?"

I clench my teeth as I nod. "I'm fine."

"I have the impression you haven't heard a single word I've said." I remain quiet, neither confirming or denying her accusation, and then she adds, "It's a lovely night, don't you think?"

She has such a pleasant face, and I try to focus on her and her fairness. Yet, Cody's words are still reverberating in my mind annoyingly. If only he stopped badgering me once and for all. I should do something about it. In my misty mind Esther's lovely face creeps in as the answer I'm seeking. I was a coward, not confessing my feeling when I had the chance months ago. This ain't gonna happen again. Esther's the girl I like, and when we start courting, Cody will have to take back his words. Come to think of it, that'll also show Kid too that his warning the other day was way out of line.

"Lou?"

Once again her voice drags me back to reality. This is my cue. The night is delightful, and this is the charming lady that holds my heart. I know what I need to do… what I really want to do. I'll kiss her, and show my great fondness. As soon as the idea enters my mind and my eyes glimpse at her mouth, my stomach churns with what I believe are nerves. I can't chicken out, and I don't want to stop and consider my determination any further. So in a bold movement I lean forward and press my lips against hers. Instantly, I am overcome by a sensation of sheer disgust, and I pull back quickly. I almost want to gag and feel the urge to wipe my mouth, but I refrain myself from doing so. This ain't the way I'd thought it would be when kissing Esther. I don't know what's wrong, but the kiss is a far cry from the marvels I've always believed it would be.

Esther is staring at me with an expression that is a mixture of surprise and contentment. "Oh Lou," she coos flirtingly. "You're so adorable!" I flinch at her words because somehow they sound more compassionate than complimentary. She talks to me as if she were dealing with a child, the very notion I planned to crunch when I kissed her. This is too awkward, and I don't really want to consider what I've done, and I wish I could give an excuse and go. Maybe this ain't the right moment, that's all.

"Lou, I'm really flattered, and you're a nice boy, but I'm afraid I have my sights set on someone else."

"What?" I mutter stupidly.

"Your friend Kid… I think I love him, but the fool keeps ignoring me!" she exclaims and her face scrunches up into an unhappy scowl. "I thought I'd make him jealous if I flaunted myself in your company before him, but I have the feeling he's not buying my little show. I think I need stronger evidence to show him."

"What?" I say again in the same clumsy manner. I'm so flabbergasted by what I'm hearing that I can hardly find my voice to utter something else than stupid monosyllables.

"Lou, you gotta do me a big favor. You're gonna tell Kid we've kissed. That'll certainly let him know we're serious and he might lose any chance to be with me."

As she talks, Esther places her hands on my shoulders, and I instantly take a step forward. My face flinches as I remember the clumsy kiss I gave her and made me disgusted. The feeling is boosted by the sheer fury feel. I push her away more strongly than I should, but I ain't thinking straight as I seethe with humiliation

"Like hell I will," I bark loudly. "I ain't your damn errand boy!"

"Lou, there's no need to lose your manners, and …"

"Go to hell," I roar, secretly relishing the satisfaction of cursing and shocking her with my coarse language. I spin around and march down the street in a huff. I'm livid. I hate being taken for a fool and fed a lot of lies. I loathe deceit. I didn't expect this from Esther. I thought she was my friend, and now I realize she's nothing but a sham. How was I so blind? How could I be so stupid?

I spot Rachel coming out of the social hall, followed by the boys, and when she sees me, she waves her hand to call my attention. "Lou, we're leaving now."

Behind her I see Cody, and his satisfied smirk and his strutting, boastful gait manage to irritate me even more. In the foul mood I am in, I'm past any self control, and my whole body and soul yearn to let some steam out. Cody is before me, annoying like usual, and I vent all my anger against him. "You!" I roar, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. "I'm up to here with you and your crap, and I've had enough! I don't want you to breathe a word to me again… ever, understood?"

"Whatever have I done now?" Cody lets out, his features marked with obvious puzzlement.

I ignore him, and on averting my eyes, I spy Kid by his side, looking as surprised by my outburst. My accusing finger moves from Cody to him, and my unkind tone adds, "And that goes for you too, jackass!"

I turn on my heel, and without waiting for anybody, I angrily march towards the station. I've never been so disappointed in my whole life. I believed I was making friends here in Rock Creek when in reality I was simply surrounded by a bunch of lying, cheating hyenas. Was this what my father wanted to save me from? I always thought the harm he used to talk about was physical, but now I realize he might have referred to this, which actually hurts more than any wound would. Pa wanted to protect me from this pain, and I never understood. Never.

"Lou! Lou!"

I don't need to turn my head to know who's chasing after me. I recognize Kid's voice, but I don't stop or slow down my steps. He has disappointed me deeply, and I think his betrayal has hit me more powerfully than Esther's. After all, Esther never promised me anything, but Kid always said that I could trust him and he'd help me to learn the steps I had to take here. And I did believe he was different from the likes of Cody.

"Lou, wait, please!"

He catches up with me, and tries to keep my fast, furious pace. "I won't talk to you," I say, categorically announcing that our friendship is as good as dead.

"Please Lou, let me understand this because I have no idea why you're so angry."

I halt short and my glaring eyes shoot to him. Despite my initial determination to obliterate him, I finally speak up. "You and Esther… I know, Kid. I know _now_."

"There's nothing between me and her. I swear."

"But you knew she wants there to be something, and you didn't tell me!"

"Lou, I tried to subtly warn you, but you didn't let me."

That's true, I must admit, but he should have told me something about this willing or unwilling involvement. It was as simple as that. "You let me make a fool of myself in front of her. I ain't an idiot, and I can cope with rejection and indifference or whatever comes my way. You've treated me like a moron, Kid!"

"Lou, I'm sorry. I…"

"What I'm sorry about," I cut him off because I can't hear him any more, "is to realize how naïve I am. I stupidly thought I had friends, but in fact, Esther just took me as a convenient pawn she could use to her own advantage, and you… you seemed to treat me like your equal, but deep down you really thought I was your poor charity case."

"Lou, that ain't true."

"I have nothing else to say to you," I announce stiffly. Tonight has been an emotional odyssey, and I know my weak personality will show in my tears soon. The last thing I need is to snivel before Kid, showing him what my brittle soul is like. So I start walking again, and before he can follow me, I break into a run and don't stop until I reach the safety of my own little retreat.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 19**

_Lou_

It has been a horrible night, full of nightmares. My usual dream about the disgusting worms falling from the sky got mixed with distorted images of Esther, Kid, and Cody. Their mocking guffaws reverberated deafeningly in my ears, and little by little they were joined by the other riders, Jesse, Rachel, Teaspoon… even the whole town, all laughing at me, pointing their fingers at me. I woke up several times during the night, and whenever I managed to fall asleep again, the two nightmares kept haunting me.

Naturally when I arouse this morning, I'm very tired. It's my day off, so I'm free from work. As I lie in bed, looking at the ceiling, I wonder if I should be freeing myself from this job altogether. Last night's events keep replaying in my mind torturously and my anger bubbles back to life. I know I won't be comfortable here any longer. My debt to Teaspoon is paid off, so nothing ties me to this place. I'm free to ride to my cabin, and start afresh there without Pa. I could survive all winter with the remainder of the last harvest, and anything I might catch in the traps. It's not much, but I don't need a lot. I can live frugally, and the furs I manage to get hold of can be exchanged for seeds when Al comes along. I'm more than able to handle the fields on my own, and when next autumn they bloom and bear generous fruit, I might be able to sell part of the harvest or also exchange it for a few animals, maybe a cow, some hens and even sheep.

I get up with a spring in my step, feeling confident and not an ounce of regret for my decision to leave this place. From the peg next to the door I rescue my saddle bags where I shove my few possessions. I'll be glad when I find myself in my old home, surrounded by peace and solitude. What has the so-called civilization brought me but headaches and pain? I won't be missing any of that, I'm certain.

It's still early, so everybody will still be sleeping, and I have no intention to say goodbye. What do they care? If I'm honest with myself, I'll have to admit that there are a few good memories of my short time here, and I'd like to thank Rachel and Teaspoon for everything they have done for me. Yet, I don't want to be submitted to a barrage of questions. I won't explain myself to anybody, especially if I have to recount what happened last night. That was too humiliating in itself. By the time my absence gets noticed, I'll probably be home, and nobody will know where to find me.

I toss a last look at my room for the last weeks before I make my way to Lightning's stall. For a second I entertain the thought of leaving a note, but I discard the notion almost immediately. I don't know what I could say. All I want to do is to leave and resume my life just like my father would like me to do, and then wait for his return one day. I don't regret my time in Rock Creek; the experience has taught me a great deal, but I've had enough with all the liars and cheaters this town is apparently so full of.

The sun is timidly emerging on the horizon when I steer Lightning out of the stables. I breathe in the early morning air and climb onto my mare. "We're going home, girl," I say, patting her neck softly.

I slap the reins on Lightning's back and she leads us out of the station at a light canter. Soon we're crossing the limits of the town, increasing our pace to a quick trot. It is then that I hear the sound of hooves behind me, and curious, I turn my head. At once I recognize the horse and rider following me. It's Kid, and when he notices my eyes on him, he calls my name. He's the last person I want to see or talk to, so I fix my eyes ahead of me and spur Lightning into a fast gallop, intending to get rid of him. We're riding at a breakneck speed, but Katy's hoofs resound closer and closer, so I press Lightning to go as fast as possible. The cold air slaps my face, and my arms and legs hurt from the continuous effort to man my mount at this pace, which I'm not used to. The scenery I whizz past ain't familiar at all; I ain't sure what direction I'm galloping in. All my self is focused on getting rid of Kid's pestering presence. So far, I haven't done a good job because he's still behind me.

The trees we zip past start multiplying as we advance, and when the thick forest wraps around us, I know I have to give up and face the music. Kid will certainly catch up with me. Who am I kidding? He's an expert Pony Express rider, used to galloping the roads and all kinds of uneven, hostile terrain, whereas my riding skills are not so experienced and very limited in comparison.

I stop and wait for him to reach us. When he does, I snap, biting like a cornered snake, "What the hell do you want?"

He doesn't even flinch at my poisonous tone, and when he notices my bags, dangling from the saddle horn, he asks quietly, "Are you going somewhere, Lou?"

"What part didn't you understand last night? I don't want to talk to you!" I bark unkindly instead of answering his question.

"You didn't let me explain, and I think I deserve to be heard."

I shake my head. "Everything was crystal clear to me. There's no need for any explanations or excuses."

"I thought we were friends."

I chuckle bitterly. "Your concept of friendship is quite peculiar. At least, in my book lies and half-truths don't have room."

"Look," Kid interject in a dry tone. "I'm sorry, all right? I know I should have told you, but believe me; I didn't know how to do it. You sounded so excited about her and…" He pauses, takes a deep breath, and in a mellower tone he adds, "Esther's been trying to draw my interest since we moved to Rock Creek, but she wont' understand I don't want anything from her. She's relentlessly insistent or… deaf."

"She wanted to make you jealous using me," I mutter.

Kid sighs. "Lou, there's no future or present for me and that woman. I don't want her, and I'd hate to think she could draw a rift between us like that. I consider you a good friend of mine, and like Teaspoon says, you're part of the family." When I keep quiet after his passionate spiel, he insists, "Can we patch things up, Lou?"

I lift my eyes to his and say, "I guess so."

Kid smiles and I have to say I'm pleased too. His bright smile has something that always manages to comfort me somehow. Kid stretches his hand to me, and I take it, thus sealing our peace 'treaty'. I look down to see my small hand almost lost in his big one. The warmth of his skin on mine feels nice, and I'm practically shivering. I wonder how I didn't notice the cold air of the morning that makes my body tremble.

Kid lets go of my hand, and I cross my arms, trying to warm up my shaky body. "So what's the deal with the bags? You ain't thinking of leaving us, are you, Lou?"

"Not anymore," I admit with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Good thing I saw you sneaking out," he says, and I find myself smiling. My irritation is gone. Maybe I overreacted last night, and I need to own up to part of the blame in this weird episode with Esther. Kid did try to warn me about her… even Cody did so in his own way, but I decided not to listen. I guess I can't blame her either even though she played with my feelings selfishly. That simply showed me that she isn't to trust as a friend. It's obvious I was just an entertainment to fill her loneliness and boredom when she was with her father in the mountains, and later in Rock Creek I came in handy for her plotting.

"Shall we ride back to the station?"

I hesitate. Kid pulls the reins to guide Katy in the opposite direction we previously rode from, and when I make no attempt to follow, he looks at me, a question in his eyes. "Kid, I've been meaning to go up to the cabin for weeks. There are a few things I need to pick up, and I want to have a look around… see how everything is, and maybe I should go today."

Kid nods, and then to my surprise he asks me, "Would you mind if I tag along with you? I don't have a ride till tomorrow morning."

In companiable silence Kid follows my lead as we head for my old home. After a few moments, he clears his throat and says, "Lou, I was thinking about Esther, and…"

"Oh please, do we have to talk about her again?" I croak, and even I could hear the whining tone in my voice.

"Just hear me out," he says, and I don't protest. "I just think that if you really like this girl, there's no law that says you can't fight for her. She ain't spoken for, and I'm sure she'll eventually see what a catch you are."

I shake my head morosely. "I don't think so," I mutter. As I remember my poor attempt to kiss Esther, and how I almost gagged in disgust, I feel overwhelmed by shame and confusion. I ain't sure what was wrong there, but I imagine that sick feeling shouldn't have been happening. That was weird. I still think Esther's a lovely girl, but just the idea of kissing her again fills me with a niggling, disagreeable dread. "Kid, I think I was deluding myself into believing I was in love with her, but, even if our disagreement hadn't taken place, I still wouldn't like her the way I thought I did."

"That often happens," Kid replies, his hand pushing a tree branch out of our way.

"Does it?" I ask, surprised by his revelation and utterly relieved.

"Not everything that gleans is gold, Lou, and as you said yourself, a woman is more than a pretty face. It's often a bitter disappointment to find out that in some cases it's only that… just a pretty face and nothing else. The hidden treasure you thought was hidden is nowhere to be found."

"It'd make things easier if we got to see the wonderful treasure before being dazed by the outer, brilliant wrapper."

"I guess that's only possible in the case of blind people."

"Or those who have a deeper sense of sight."

We continue the rest of our journey in silence. When we approach the property, feelings of apprehension and foreboding assault me. I'm afraid of finding Pa waiting for me, and I know that as soon as he sees me with Kid, he'll want to shoot him just like the day Esther and her father unexpectedly appeared on our farm. And after shooting him, he'll certainly drag me to the cabin and lock me there. My fears are naturally groundless because my father is behind bars many miles from here. Even aware of that, I breathe out in relief when we finally ride into our property and there ain't a soul around. The relief is soon succeeded by shame and guilt. What kind of ungrateful, dishonorable son am I? Instead of jumping in joy at the prospect of seeing my father, I'm dreading it. I sometimes disgust myself.

"It's so quiet here," Kid says as his eyes take in the piece of land that has been my home for almost my whole life.

"You could say that," I rejoin with a grin.

We dismount and tether the horses in front of the cabin. I'm dismayed to see that weeds and brambles are already sprouting timidly, and I fear that with time what used to be productive, fertile soil will become fallow and fraught with unwanted shrubbery. But what can I do? Despite my intention this morning, I have no desire to stay here on my own. Pa will be back in no less than five years, and only when the time for his release comes will I consider living here again.

Kid and I walk to the house, and as I stand in the middle of the living room, I sense the usual familiarity as well as a strange feeling of detachment as if I didn't belong to this environment any longer. It wasn't that long ago I spent my days here, but it feels as if a lifetime had gone by.

"Your father built a nice place here," he says while I open the shutters to let the light in.

"Yes," I reply without much enthusiasm. "I know no other home. This is where I've been since I was a toddler, so I guess I can't really appreciate it."

"Consider yourself lucky," Kid continued. "The place where I grew up was nothing, but a run-down shack which leaked and froze us in winter and was an oven in the summer. We couldn't afford to move anywhere else."

"Where was that?" I ask, intrigued to know more about Kid's past. Even though we often talk, he never says much about his family or where he comes from.

"Virginia."

"Are your parents still there?"

Kid shakes his head, and I can tell that he aint' too comfortable with the conversation. His usually smiling face is somber, and his eyes are downcast as he speaks. "My mother died when I was fifteen. My father had abandoned us years ago, and I can't say I was sorry to see him go. He treated us worse than scum, so when he left, life became less unbearable for us."

"I'm sorry," I mutter, and when he looks up and finds me, his face registers surprise, and I can guess he never meant to say so much. "My mother's also dead," I add, not sure why, but somehow I just want him to know that I understand him, and we are in a way equals. "I don't even remember her."

"At least you have your Pa."

I nod slowly and sigh. "Yes, that's true, but…"

"But what?"

"He's… he's so overbearing at times."

"I imagine that's logical, considering you're his only son, so all his attention goes to you," Kid says.

I know that. I smile at his words. It's nice of him to talk about my father in those respectful terms when all he knows is that Pa brutally attacked a fella, and that's why he's in prison. Anyone could have reservations to justify a person with that kind of background, but I've learnt that Kid always tries to find something good in everybody, and his deference to my father and myself is really a thoughtful touch.

"I know you're right, and it's wrong of me to think about Pa this way, but… but I don't want to go back to what my life was like when I lived here. I like it in Rock Creek. I feel so free."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Lou," he replies. "From experience I know there's no use fretting about what ain't here yet. When your father comes out of jail in a few years' time, you might even have a family of your own, and things will be completely different."

His comment makes me titter because I'm unable to imagine the scenario he's painted for me. Me a father? I just can't see it. And I'm pretty sure Pa would hate me for doing something like that behind his back.

Laughing I look up, and once again Kid's intense gaze gives me a jolt, and I sober instantly. There's something in those eyes of his that seem to go deep into my soul and make me nervous. I wonder if he has this effect on everybody, or maybe it's just me and my awkward ways. I lower my eyes and try to find a diversion. I'd abhor it if Kid came to realize I got this weird around him from time to time. This must be one of these things he claims shouldn't be commented on between two male friends, so I better keep it private.

"I better pack my things first before checking the rest of our farm. With a bit of luck we'll be back in Rock Creek before dinner."

"Let me give you a hand then," Kid volunteers, following me.

"Pa has a suitcase in his bedroom," I say as I open the door and we slip inside. I point with my thumb at the top of my father's wardrobe on which a bulky, brown suitcase rests. "I know it'll be a heck of a job to carry that thing while riding back to Rock Creek, but I'll manage somehow."

"Let me get it for you," Kid offers, sharply realizing that with my size I'll be unable to reach the suitcase unassisted.

I take a step backwards, leaving him room to maneuver. Kid peels off his coat and raises his arms upward. His body flexes, and from his position I can see underneath his shirt the muscles in his back and arms as he moves. He's so strong and well-built. I like what I'm seeing, and even though this is something men ain't supposed to say, I know Kid's a beautiful man. No wonder Esther likes him. He has what I so obviously lack. I keep staring at him, practically admiring him, because he's just the way I'd like to be. That's why I know I could watch the shape of his body for hours. Men ain't supposed to admire other fellas' looks either, but I do… I admire Kid only because I want to be like him.

A sigh sneaks out of my lips just when Kid drops the suitcase onto the floor and I lose sight of his back.

"Anything wrong, Lou?" he asks me, having heard my involuntarily sigh.

I blush, angry with myself, and shake my head energetically. Trying to hide my stupid embarrassment, I keep my eyes downcast as I mumble he should follow me to my own bedroom. My darn curiosity is putting me on the spot, and I'm risking Kid's friendship for my own stupidity. I don't want everybody to think I'm odd like Cody called me, least of all, Kid. So I plaster a smile on my face, lift my chin, and looking into his unnerving eyes, I try to act suave and calm. "Come on, Kid. Let's finish here, and then we'll go home."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 20**

_Lou_

We make good time coming back from the cabin and reach the station a couple of hours before sunset. All of a sudden, a very peculiar thought comes over me. The station where I've been just over a month feels more like a home now to me than the piece of land I've spend my whole life on. I have no qualms riding away and leaving the cabin behind, but I was glad I had the chance to check everything was in order. There was nothing much I could do about the neglected fields, but Kid and I made sure everything would remain safe with me gone. We closed windows and locked doors in both the cabin and the stables, and from the generous harvest this last autumn brought we filled four sacks to take to the station, and stored the rest in the barn. Hopefully, I can return again in a few weeks and bring more before it goes to waste.

The ride back to Rock Creek was awkward as the horses had to carry the extra weight of the sacks and my big suitcase. We had to use all our concentration and effort, and Kid and I hardly exchanged a word. I wish we could have continued the conversation we started in the cabin about our parents. I want to ask him many more questions about him. I wonder if he has some other relatives in Virginia, if he misses the place he grew up in, if he plans to return there some day. There's a lot of talk about the impending war between the south and the north, and I'd like to know what he thinks about it and if he has considered going to fight. Knowing about his life makes me feel closer to him, and he's my best friend, so it's logical I long to get better acquainted with the person he is and was. Unfortunately, my curiosity has to wait for another chance.

The sky is a beautiful composite of orange and violet hues when we make our way into the station. There's no one outside, which ain't strange at this time of the day. Kid and I dismount and lead our horses inside the stables. In silence we ease down the sacks and my suitcase, and leave them on the floor. When we proceed to unsaddle and unharness the horses, we hear footsteps approaching. I poke my head above Lightning and see Teaspoon and Cody marching down the corridor.

"Where have you two been all day long?" Teaspoon asks in an impatient tone.

I look at Kid before we both come from behind the animals. "I… I thought I had the day off," I reply warily. "That's why I…"

"What's wrong, Teaspoon?" Kid cuts me off, stopping my attempt to justify our absence from the station today.

Teaspoon lifts his extended palms to us in a pacifying gesture. "Nothing wrong, Kid. This afternoon in came an order for a special dispatch to Saint Joseph, and you're up next." Kid opens his mouth to speak, but Teaspoon beckons him to keep quiet and let him continue. His eyes turn to me and he says, "And Lou, as luck will have it, this is your chance to visit your father."

"Seriously?" I exclaim and my lips stretch into a pleased smile. I didn't expect this, and all of a sudden, I'm a bundle of nerves.

Teaspoon nods. "When the mail pouch is safely delivered in St Joseph, you and Kid can ride on to Jefferson City." He stops and produces a white envelope from the pocket of his coat. "Show this document to the guard in charge there. It's a written permission from the prison's warden. I got the letter this morning."

I take the envelope as if it were a treasure. My mind is in a haze, and I'm moved to realize what lengths Teaspoon has gone to allow me to see my father. If I had left for good this morning as I had planned to, I'd be remembered now as nothing but an ungrateful moron. I'm glad Kid intercepted me and persuaded me I was acting foolishly. He saved me from more than my own stupidity. "I don't know what to say," I whisper in a husky voice.

"There's nothin' to say," he replies. "You'll get to Jefferson City in a couple of days if no surprises delay you."

That means I'll be gone for at least four days. "And my work here?" I ask fearfully, wondering if Teaspoon might hire somebody else while I'm gone. What if Teaspoon likes that person better and I end up losing my job?

"Don't worry, Lou," says Cody, who has been unusually quiet all this time. "Buck, Noah, and me will cover for you in the meantime." I must have given him such an astonished look that he seems able to read the thoughts running in my head. "Why do you look so surprised, Lou? I ain't your enemy, but you take my little pranks to heart too much. Here we all watch out for the others, and that includes you."

I can't say I ain't floored by Cody's apparent change of heart. I've never heard him sound so serious, and I can tell he means every word. Maybe what Kid and the others have kept telling me about Cody being just a harmless clown and a good fella is true after all. "Thanks, Cody. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. I can't begin to express how much this means to me."

At my honest expression of gratefulness, Cody splutters and rolls his eyes. "Why do you always have to sound so stiff and formal, Lou? No wonder you're an easy target with your pompous, long words. You're like a red rag to a bull, my friend."

Before I can say anything, he turns on his heel and walks away. "Don't pay him any heed, Lou," Teaspoon steps in, chortling softly. "Cody's just Cody, and he can't help himself." He pauses and adds immediately afterwards. "There are still a couple of hours of light, so you better get ready to leave now. And I forgot to mention something; Jimmy's going with you too."

"Is that really necessary?" Kid asks.

"The order was unquestionable and requested two guns on this ride," Teaspoon explains.

"I'll have Lou with me."

Teaspoon assesses me with narrow eyes before he speaks again. "It's admirable to see how much you trust your friend here, Kid, but Lou ain't a rider and has little idea and no experience of what you might likely come across. No offense, Lou, but my job is to assure that the mail reaches its destination safely, and ensure my riders finish the job in one piece."

I shake my head. "None taken. Don't worry." Teaspoon is right, but deep down I'm a bit mortified by the fact that I ain't nothing like the men I live and work with. I sometimes wish I were a rider instead of the stable hand, so I could experience the exciting adventures they live and tell about at the dinner table every day. Kid always says that there's more boredom and loneliness in the job than excitement, but I think he's just playing it down. "Will it be dangerous, Teaspoon?" I ask.

"Not more than usual."

In no more than twenty minutes we're ready to depart. Teaspoon and Rachel have come out to see us off and wish us a good, safe ride. As Jimmy gets onto his horse next to me, he asks, "Eager to enjoy your first go as a Pony Express rider?"

I shrug my shoulders in indifference. "I guess." I ain't sure how I feel about having Jimmy along. When Teaspoon announced he'd be riding with us, my heart sank in disappointment. I was excited at the notion of me and Kid together on this ride. He's the perfect choice to escort me to Jefferson City; I feel comfortable around him, and besides, going all the way to Missouri on my own would be too lonely. I definitely want Kid with me on this journey, but Jimmy? I have nothing against him, and he's a nice boy too. Yet, I don't feel so free to talk about certain things before him. I was hoping Kid and I could carry on talking about our lives as we did on my farm, but I don't think that will possible now with Jimmy around.

We ride for a couple of hours, pressing our mounts for a good start. When the sun sinks on the horizon and the sky draws its dark drape above us, we stop at a clearing in the forest. I collect some twigs and logs to make a fire while Kid sees to the horses and Jimmy goes to fill our canteens from a nearby stream. Dinner is beans and jerky. Kid and Jimmy talk in a light-hearted tone, but I keep quiet. It's now when my body is relaxed and idle that I start considering what I'm up to. Visiting Pa naturally brings me comfort and joy, but I also dread facing him. What will I tell him? As soon as he sees me, he'll know I haven't stayed put on the farm just as he would have liked me to. But what was I supposed to do? What kind of son would I be if I had not tried to find him in Rock Creek after days of his absence? And I'm safe and happy with my new friends. Even Cody seems to have come around now too. I couldn't change a single thing I've done since my father went, and I'll just have to make him understand.

The first sunrays fall directly on my eyes, waking me up. For a moment I feel disorientated. My back is stiff after sleeping on the hard ground, and pebbles dig into my skin. A second is all it takes me to remember that I ain't in my bed in Rock Creek, but in the middle of nowhere on my way to see my father in prison. When I open my eyes, Kid's already up, trying to revive the fire that must have died on us during the night.

"Good morning," he greets me too jovially for this early in the day.

I rub my eyes and sit up. The cold air punches my face, and I'm unwilling to release my body from the protection and warmth of the blanket I've been wrapped up in all night long. "Where's Jimmy?" I ask when I see no trace of him anywhere, and as I speak, a cloud of condensation sneaks out of my mouth.

"I sent him to pick up more kindling for breakfast," Kid explains as I disentangle my legs from the blanket, and the first contact of my unprotected frame against the cold sends me into a shiver.

I rise to my feet, rubbing my hands together for some tiny grasp of warmth. "I think I'll go and wash up at the stream. Shall I bring back some water for coffee?"

I pick up the pot and head for the stream. The water is freezing, and when I splash some on my face, that manages to wake me and my still dormant senses completely. I relieve myself behind a bush, and when I fill the coffee pot with water, I make my way back to the camp. My mind is never idle, and I can't stop thinking about Pa and what he'll say when he sees me appear. All my thoughts, though, vanish when I come across a very peculiar sight. It's Jimmy. He's standing a few feet from where I have stopped, his back to me, and his front almost touching the tree he's facing. His awkward position reminds me of the time when I was a little boy and my father punished me facing the wall when I misbehaved.

I wonder if there's something wrong with Jimmy, so with slow quiet stops I approach him. His face is tilted downwards. Maybe I'm intruding in some private moment, but I worry he doesn't feel well and that's why I can't ignore him. When I finally stop close to him, I ask, "Jimmy, what are you doing?"

My voice startles him, and his reaction ain't one I expected. Without turning from the tree he pulls out his hand and gives me such a big shove that I heavily fall on my backside. "What do you think I'm doing, Lou?" he barks as he finally spins around, and still sitting on the ground I cower fearfully when I see his furious face. He's fumbling with the buttons of his pants, and only then I notice a slushy puddle at the base of the tree behind his back.

Jimmy scurries away in a huff before I have the chance to say anything. As I scramble to my feet, I curse myself for sticking my nose where it wasn't wanted. I can't help but think that he has a very weird way of doing… uh… his business. I can't figure out how he can do that without ending up soiled and wet. That ain't my concern, but it's something very bizarre indeed.

The water I was carrying spilled when I was pushed and fell, so I have to retrace my steps to the stream, and refill the pot. When I return to the camp, Jimmy's sitting on a tree stump, looking quite unfriendly in my direction. His obviously silent hostility is hard to miss, so naturally Kid notices there's something going on at once. "What's eating you, Jimmy?" he asks as he sits on the ground next to me and across from Jimmy.

Holding an empty tin cup in his right hand, Jimmy points it at me while saying, "Your friend here was spying on me while I was passing water. Can you believe it?"

His tone is casual and not as harsh as expected from his demeanor. Yet, his words trigger my annoyance and shame all at once. "I was not!" I exclaim in a loud tone, matching his glaring expression with one of my own.

"No wonder Cody thinks you're an oddball, because you certainly are one," Jimmy adds, not minding my words one bit.

"Come on, Jimmy. Let it go," Kid steps in, but even though his words are conciliatory, I wonder if he also believes the same as his other friends. I can't allow anybody to think something that ain't true, and above all, I don't want Kid to base his impression of me on some false assumptions. He's my friend and his opinion means the world to me.

"I wasn't spying on him!" I almost cry, squeezing my fists tightly. "I thought… I don't know what I thought, but I wouldn't have dared to come closer to him if I had known he was… he was doing what he was doing."

Jimmy doesn't say a word, and Kid nods. "I know, Lou. What a misunderstanding, uh?"

I ain't sure whether his reassuring words run true, and maybe this should be one of the instances in which I should laugh it off. Instead I'm tortured by my longing to be accepted as part of this strange world that confuses me more and more every day. I don't want to be the odd man out, but just one more in the crowd.

Even though I'm still troubled about the misunderstanding with Jimmy, I don't try to speak another word. Jimmy ignores me, and although Kid makes continues attempts to pull me to the conversation during breakfast, I act cold and aloof. Later we break camp and set off for Saint Joseph.

The ride to the city is uneventful, and both times we stop to eat and water the horses, Jimmy seems to have forgotten our previous differences, and even talks to me as casually as if nothing had happened. That shows me that I get too strung up over petty matters I shouldn't attach too much importance to. Yet, I can't forget he called me odd, which is like the pot calling the kettle black. If I spoke up and said the strange way he leaks, who would be called weird then?

We spend the night in St. Joseph, and get rooms at the local hotel. In the loneliness and silence of the night I am unable to fall asleep. The notion that very soon I'll be standing face to face with my father brims me with a mixture of feelings. I'm naturally looking forward to seeing him and being reassured that even though he's locked in that prison, he's fine and in good health. Yet, I dread the moment I stand before him so much that I'm already shivering. I try to breathe and soothe my fears, and tell myself that whatever he says shouldn't matter since he won't be able to prevent me from carrying on with my new life. Yet, I want his blessing and approval. My father is my only family, and I know I'll be pestered by pangs of guilt and shame if he doesn't approve of my choices.

My head is fuzzy from the lack of proper sleep the following morning. My countenance surely gives away my tiredness since Kid asks me if I'm feeling all right. Naturally, I roughly brush him off, hating his concern because for me it just shows that they all consider me a child, a weakling, or even something worse. I know that my crankiness this morning is just the result of a sleepless night and the nerves of what the end of this journey will bring about. Yet, I don't try to make the effort to cheer up or untroubled myself.

After breakfast we leave St Joseph. I thought that Jimmy would return to Rock Creek after completing his job in the city, but I was wrong. He's also riding with me and Kid to Jefferson City. To be honest, I'm glad not to be alone with just Kid. My mood ain't at its highest ebb, and I'd rather be with just my thoughts undisturbed. So Kid and Jimmy can jabber away to each other if they want to, but they'd better leave me out of their chatting.

Today I find it harder to keep up with them as I'm niggled by sheer exhaustion. Yet, I don't complain, and although I have hardly enough energy to handle the reins, I push myself harder and try my best not to flail. The day is long and arduous, and it's dark when we reach Jefferson City. This time we make camp outside the town. My muscles are sore, and I crash as soon as my head hits the hard ground. Being this close to my father, my agitated nerves should be on edge, but my exhaustion tonight grants me a peaceful rest, and my sleep is even devoid of dreams and nagging nightmares.

Early the following morning we ride towards the penitentiary. My restlessness is back, and my stomach summersaults as we approach the place. The prison rises before us overwhelmingly. It is an imposing stone building, a magnificent fortress impossible to break or escape from. I've never seen such a fearsome environment, and I really wish I could turn around and ride away. If the exterior is this daunting, I can't imagine what this place hides in its entrails. I can't help to think how wrong it is for Pa to be here. He loves his freedom and the open spaces. How can he bear to be locked up here? It must be killing him, and the notion of what pain Pa is going through leaves me totally embittered.

"Are you all right?" I look up and stumble upon Kid's warm eyes. "You've hardly said a word in the last couple of days."

I nod. "I'm fine, just nervous. I haven't seen my father for over a month, and I wonder how he is."

"He must be fine," Jimmy sentences as he dismounts, silently urging us to do the same.

Once on the ground I follow Kid and Jimmy to the building. With each step I take, the prison grows higher and more frightening. The masonry entrance, flanked by two towers, clearly succeeds in transmitting the fear and discomfort I feel, and it looks like the ferocious mouth of a predator eager to gobble you forever. There are a couple of guards keeping watch in the towers, both of whom hold shotguns, and I can tell they'd be ready to open fire at the merest suspicion. I avert my eyes and approach one of the uniformed guards positioned at the entrance. After showing him the letter Teaspoon gave me, he points me in the direction I should go. When I thank him and am ready to cross the limits to this unknown world, Kid calls my attention. He and Jimmy exchange a look before he says, "Lou, would you rather go in alone? This is a personal matter of yours, and we don't want to intrude."

I consider his words for a few seconds, and even though it ain't a good idea for pa to see me in the company of two men who are strangers to him, I do know I don't want to be alone inside. The place gives me the creeps, and I have the odd sensation that if I get inside, I'll never walk out again. So I need a friendly face I can turn to.

"Please don't go," I almost plead.

Kid nods, and the three of us march into the prison. The guard has told me I need to present the documents I have with me to his superior in the office we step in. There's a quite long line of people, who presumably are here for the same reason as me, and at the end of the human row a white-haired uniformed man sits behind a table. One by one the man peruses the papers presented and gives a nod without uttering a single word. When it's my turn, he runs his eyes through the letter Teaspoon gave me and then he looks up. "And who are your two companions?" he asks, tipping his head to Kid and Jimmy.

Afraid that I might have to proceed on my own, I come up with a better explanation than the reality. "They're my brothers."

I don't bat a lid as the lie easily rolls on my tongue. Thankfully, Kid and Jimmy don't open their mouths to deny my words, and the guard studies us gingerly. I can tell he's thinking that we don't look alike as the brothers I claim we are. Yet, he doesn't say anything else and gives us the nod that grants us permission to go on.

He directs us to cross the door behind him, and we step out into the prison yard and join a small crowd of people waiting. There are mostly women of all ages, mothers, daughters or wives expecting to see their beloved men, but there are also some children and a few men apart from the three of us. The group grows bigger as more people trickle out of the office we've just vacated. As I wait here, I sweep my eyes around. The yard is an ample, cobbled area in the shape of a semicircle, around which closed wooden doors arise leading, I suppose, to offices and the guard's headquarters. There are several uniformed guards standing opposite us, brandishing their guns menacingly, and behind the iron bars enclose an empty area which looks like a big cell from one end to the other.

An hour passes before there's some kind of motion in this eerily silent environment. Behind the barred area a door that I hadn't noticed opens, and first an armed guard steps in. After him, a line of ragged-looking men shuffle inside. My heart starts thumping when I catch sight of my father. He doesn't look very different from the last time I saw him, but his faded, worn-out clothes make his figure gauche and too thin. At least, he seems to be in good health despite the loss of weight. It's obvious from his facial expression that he doesn't know why he's been brought to the visiting area, and when he finally spots me behind the bars, he's flummoxed and in shock.

The guards cry we can approach the cell, and I smile nervously as I walk closer. Kid and Jimmy have wordlessly agreed to give me the relative privacy I can have with my father under these circumstances and remain behind. Pa's bewildered expression unnerves me, but I keep smiling. "Pa," I whisper as I stand before him, clutching the bars in my hands. I'm squeezed between an overweight woman on my right and a tall man on my left, but I hardly register them as all my undivided attention is drawn to my father.

Pa takes a step closer, staring at me as if he can't believe it's me here in the flesh. "What are you doing here, Lou?"

"I came to see you," I state the obvious with my unfaltering smile. "I've been so worried."

"And how did you know I was here?"

I can hear the irritation and even the fear in his tone, but there's no way I can lie or morph my new reality into something else for his benefit. "The marshal," I manage to say in a slightly trembling voice. "I had to find out why you never came back home."

"As you see, I'm fine. Now I want you to go straight back to our farm and stay there."

I hesitate for a second. It would be so easy to let him think I've been safely tucked at home all this time, but this is something I can't lie to him about. "Pa, things have changed. I have a job in Rock Creek now, and I live there, not on the farm."

A look of pure terror mars my father's features as soon as he hears me. "No!" he cries so loudly that everybody, prisoners, visitors, and guards, get startled and give us a look. "Lou, you can't do that. It's too dangerous!"

In his anxiety over me Pa presses his body against the bars trying to come closer to me, but a guard intercepts him, ordering to pull back. Pa obeys him reluctantly, and I can tell he's gripped by intense tension and worry.

"Pa, I'm fine, honestly. I like it there, and…"

"Lou, you gotta go back home!" he insists in the same loud tone, drawing the attention of everybody again. "Just heed me! You don't understand what kind of danger you're in!"

"I'm safe, Pa. I swear it's true. I have good friends, even the marshal, and I'm happy."

Pa ain't listening. "Lou, you're in danger! Don't you see it? Just leave that place, and go back home! Please go back home!"

His cries are so loud and his face is in such agony that I involuntarily take a step backwards. Something in his whole bearing frightens me, and goose bumps rise all over my spine. A guard steps in and pushes his gun before my father, forcing him to move from the barred barrier. "That's enough, Boggs. Your time's up," he announces as he looks at me. "You should go now."

"Pa, I'll try to come see you again," I say, but he ain't listening to me. He keeps shouting 'You're in danger!' over and over again, which echoes in the prison yard, causing everybody to stare at him. Another guard has been called to help with my father. The duo uses their joined strengths to push pa out of the door, but he resists and I'm amazed by how strong he is. His cries ring in my ears, and I feel a terrible urge to cry and even say I'll do whatever he wants. Yet, I simply stand there, looking aghast as he struggles against the guards and shouts my name in pure agony. When he's finally shoved out of the door, his torturous cries waft to me and I realize I'm shivering.

The feel of a hand on my shoulders startles me, and as I look up and meet Kid's compassionate expression, he asks, "Shall we go, Lou?" I simply nod, and as I follow my two friends out of the prison, I think I can still hear my father, and then I know his cries will haunt me every day for as long as I remain in Rock Creek and ignore his pleas.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21**

_Lou_

After the unsettling visit to my father in prison, just as I predicted, I can't get him off my mind. His begging, pleading cries have become an invisible ghost that haunts me day and night. I know I ain't doing anything wrong by going against his wishes. I lead a safe, happy, honest life in Rock Creek, and I just contemplate the possibility of going back to our cabin. Yet, I can't stop thinking about Pa. He's always fretted over my safety, and now that he knows where I am, he must be out of his mind with worry. Being in prison is hard enough without any additional weights, and the idea that my rebellious attitude is causing him such heartache nags at my conscience. But what am I supposed to do? I can't just return to my loneliness. I'm happier than ever, and I don't want things to change.

This diatribe is constantly troubling my peace, and I'm almost tempted to do as Pa told me, and then send him a letter to appease his worries. Yet, I know I can't do it. I guess this is something I have to live with. At least, when I'm around the riders, I feel light-hearted, and things are even better than they were before going to Jefferson City. Despite our misunderstanding during the ride, Jimmy seems more open, and we often talk. He even told me during a conversation we had that he can sympathize with my situation with my pa. Apparently, he had a peculiar love-hate relationship with his father, and even though he hasn't been very specific about it, I'm glad he trusts me enough to tell me something so personal.

Cody has also changed, and has stopped badgering me so much with his wisecracks and practical jokes. Mind you, he still acts like a buffoon more often than not, but I feel I've finally been accepted as part of the family. In a funny kind of way Cody has let me know just that. And Kid… he's as good a friend as always, and I think we're even closer now. We still talk a lot, alone or in the company of the others. I really enjoy his camaraderie and when he ain't at the station, I feel something's missing, and his absence is too noticeable. No wonder I'm constantly on the lookout and checking the horizon when I know he's due back from one of his rides, so I'm the first one to welcome him back at home.

After a month in Rock Creek things are easier, and I don't feel like such an alien anymore. I'm getting used to my life here, and I love working at the station and getting lost among the people swarming in the streets of the city. I know I can't deny myself the pleasure of being a part of this world. What I've been avoiding lately is going to the social on Saturdays. After the fiasco with Esther, I don't want to see her. Once or twice I've caught a glimpse of her in the distance, but I've instantly turned on my heel and walked the other way. I know I can't avoid her forever, but if I can, I'd rather not risk the chances more than possible. The boys religiously go to the social when they're not away on rides and talk about how much fun I'm missing out on. I don't really care, and I don't have any wishes to dance or entertain another girl any sooner. I've learned my lesson and need time to overcome my wariness before I can consider the possibility of women again.

"Did you hear what the rumor mill is spreading now, Kid?" Noah asks as he leans forward across the dinner table to grab a piece of bread. His voice not only draws my attention, but everybody else's, and the gleaning shine in his eyes makes me think of the cat that got the cream. I wonder what he's up to.

"Hear what?" Kid says without much enthusiasm as he's clearly enjoying his lunch too much to be bothered by any gossip Noah may have got wind of in town.

"About Stanley Baker. Rumor has it that he won't wander off to the Masons' farm any longer."

Even I know who Stanley is. He's the fella who's supposedly courting Debbie, the girl Kid would give his right hand for a chance in her heart. I toss a look at Kid, who's sitting next to me, and his lit-up expression seems to convey that this is the best news he could hope for while I silently cringe.

"But what… what happened?" Kid stammers and we can all hear the eager anticipation in his voice.

"Apparently, he and Mr. Mason didn't see eye to eye," Noah explains. "Debbie's father was of the opinion that Stan didn't treat his daughter as she deserved. You know how arrogant Stan can be, and I guess in the end either he got tired of troublesome future in-laws or she decided her father was right about Stan."

I'm surprised that somebody as discreet and private as Noah has all that information about Debbie Mason and her love and family affairs. Apparently, it ain't just Cody who's keen on other people's matters. I would have never pegged Noah as someone who gave any credit to the grapevine, but it seems I was wrong.

"And now she's free," Jimmy steps in, wiggling his eyebrows at Kid pointedly.

"That doesn't mean she'll give me half a chance," Kid contradicts him. "For all I know, she doesn't care two bits about me."

"Don't be so negative," Cody adds. "She's a woman… even better, a vulnerable woman, and in need of a shoulder to cry on, and who better to turn to than one of us?"

"Cody…" Rachel rebukes.

He ignores her, and adds, "And I seem to recall she's been giving you the eye at the last couple of socials."

The pleased grin dancing on Kid's lips vexes me, and I hate how everybody is coaxing and pushing him to do something he'll probably regret later. I don't know Debbie and have never crossed a single word with her, so logically I shouldn't have anything against the girl. Yet, I can't help but not like her. Maybe my animosity is grounded on my experience with Esther, or it might just be some gut instinct that tells me she's no good. All I know is that I don't want Kid to get involved with her, so before I have the sense to bite my tongue, I blurt out, "I don't see what the big deal is. She's nothing special, and I guess, Kid, you need to consider whether you like her for real before doing anything."

Everybody, including Rachel, gives me a look as if I had lost my head and was blabbering nonsense. It is a well-known fact that Kid has been captivated by the woman since he landed in Rock Creek, but he also confessed to me that he wasn't in love as he hardly knows her. My words are not as absurd as everybody seems to think.

Kid smiles at me, and to my chagrin he says, "I just know this must mean something, and I'll do my best not to mess it up."

"You'll be fine, Kid," Rachel adds sweetly. "And Debbie'll be a fool if he doesn't see who she's letting slip."

This time I literally bite my lip to shun the flow of words that is straining to spill out of my mouth. I can't understand how even Rachel is supportive of that girl. Can't they see what a bad idea this is? I just know Kid's better off alone. Why does he need an unsuitable woman in his life? He should be happy and satisfied with all the friends he has. I don't need any women to fill my existence, especially after what happened with Esther. I have everything I need with my new friends, especially Kid, who's become like a brother, a companion, a pal… everything wrapped in one person. Why can't my friendship be enough for him in the way his is for me?

* * *

Work at the station is as busy as usual, and I've hardly been able to think about much else lately. Not even have my worries about Pa bothered me in the last days since I'm too tired all the time. My annoyance over the girl Kid foolishly believes is the bee's knees has vanished along with any other thoughts about the matter too. Neither Kid nor the other riders have mentioned her again, at least in my presence, but I'm pretty sure Kid's looking forward to next Saturday's social when he'll see her and maybe start wooing her. I might go to the dance this time even though there's the risk I might run into Esther, but I'm ready to do that just to keep an eye on Kid. I'd hate it if he did something rash or plain stupid.

Since I've put my worries on hold till Saturday, I'm flummoxed when today I return to the station after running an errand for Rachel in town and find Kid and that woman together. They're standing next to the corral, watching one of our mares and its new filly trotting together around the enclosure. Debbie is wearing a light pink skirt with a matching jacket, and her dark hair is up in some twisted do. I muse that she looks too elegant and coiffed for somebody who's recently broken up with her beau. Her affections must be as flighty as Esther's, and the flirting way I see her smile and laugh with Kid just confirms my poor opinion of her.

My good sense implores me to ignore them and mind my own business, but how on earth can I do that? Kid's my friend, and it irks me to see him waste his time with a woman that I'm sure ain't worthy of his attentions. I'm probably breaking another rule of propriety if I approach them uninvited. Everybody in this town is continuously hammering on what is proper and what is not, but this time I can't care less.

I resolutely walk up to the pair, and when Kid sees me, he smiles. "Hey, Lou!" The woman appraises me with curiosity as Kid makes the expected introductions. "Debbie, this is my very good friend, Lou."

I'm pleased to hear him say I'm not only his friend, but his very good friend. "How do you do, Ma'am?" I stiffly greet her, tilting my head with cold politeness.

Debbie simply smiles and turns her attention back to Kid. "I've afraid I've got to go now. Mama'll be wondering where I am. See you tonight, Kid, and nice to meet you, Lou."

The girl waves her hand at Kid as a goodbye before she dashes out of the station, and as I turn to look at Kid, I realize that he's glancing at her fleeting figure, sporting a very goofy grin on his lips. I don't know why, but his smile feels like a painful punch to my nose, and I wish I could slap it off his face.

"What's tonight?"

"Uh?" he lets out stupidly, and I have the suspicion he'd forgotten about my presence until I spoke up.

"She said she'd see you tonight," I elaborate.

"Oh that," he replies with a smile as we start walking towards the stables. "I asked her if she'd have dinner with me at the restaurant tonight, and I can't believe it yet, but she said yes. Naturally, her mother is included too. It wouldn't be proper without a chaperone."

I scowl at his words, and I made no attempt to hide my disappointment. "It's hardly surprising she accepted," I say sarcastically. "Getting a free meal at the local restaurant for her and her mother is enough appeal. Who would say no to that?"

Kid shakes his head. "Lou, don't be so cynical. That's beside the point. If I had to invite every single citizen in Rock Creek to be with her, I would. I just hope she can let me court her because that's all I want."

I sigh tiredly. "But you told me you weren't in love with her," I remind him.

"I said I wasn't sure, but I like her, Lou… very much."

"But how can you?" I blurt out in a loud voice. "She might be using you out of spite. Ain't it just a bit suspicious that she jumps from one man to another in a question of days and so casually. I just think…"

I can't finish the sentence because Kid grabs my left shoulder and pins me against the stables door. His face is red with sheer fury. I've never seen him so angry before, and I'm fully aware that it's me who has managed to anger him this much. "Listen. If you ain't gonna say anything positive about her, just keep your damn opinion to yourself. I won't have you or anybody badmouthing Debbie when you know next to nothing about her!"

I swat his hand off my shoulder and push him away. "Sometimes people can't bear hearing the truth, and it seems that's your case!" I spit back, glaring daggers at him and unbothered that I'm digging a deeper hole under my feet with every word I utter.

"What truth are you talking about, idiot? I didn't get you, but now I do… I realize you're nothing but a bitter being that rejoices in people's miseries and loneliness!"

"That's not…"

"I can't talk to you now!" he continues, cutting me off. "Stay away from me if this is the kind of friendship you can offer."

Before I can respond, he turns around and storms away towards the bunkhouse. The stiff position of his shoulder just shows how angry he is. I'm also seething, and punch my right palm against my left fist as I march to my room. How can Kid be such a fool? Can't he see she ain't the woman he deserves? She'll play with him just like Esther tried to use me. I just know that, and she's now causing havoc on my friendship with Kid on top of it all. Granted, I started it, poking my nose where it didn't belong, but the idea of Kid and that woman fills me with such anxiety and distress that I couldn't just stay put. I just know he's up to a great disappointment when this woman shows her true colors.

Maybe I've overstepped my limits and should have dealt with Kid with more caution, but doesn't he realize I care for him and all I want is to protect him? I'm so angry and hurt that when I reach my room, I let out a loud grunt in frustration. My chest hurt and my head starts throbbing from the effort of controlling the tears that push behind my eyelids. I don't know why all this makes me so distraught as to tear me up. It's Kid's business, and it shouldn't have to do anything with me. So what if he foolishly decides to get involved with the wrong woman? I warned him, so now it's up to him. Whatever he does should leave me indifferent. Then why have I become a wretched wreck all of a sudden? I hate being this sensitive; it's something my father always reproached me. I swear to myself that I need to stop this. Kid ain't my concern, and if he's ready to bash and ruin our friendship over a woman, then let it be.

* * *

Even though I tell myself that I won't think about Kid and our disagreement anymore, I just can't tame my will and delete these disturbing thoughts. I'm restless and a sense of dread wraps my spirit. After I finish the day's work, I lock myself in my room instead of heading to the bunkhouse for dinner. My appetite is gone, and I'm not in the mood to see or talk to anybody.

I curl up in my bed, feeling very miserable for some reason I can't put my finger on. My set-to with Kid can't upset me this much and turn me into a pathetic crybaby. I'm ashamed of myself, and the more aware I am of my shortenings, the worse I feel. It's a vicious circle I can't escape, and I close my eyes, commanding myself to sleep and forget about today.

The sound of the bell announcing dinner wafts into my room, but I remain unmoving and keep my eyes shut. Naturally, I ain't sleepy and notice every single sound around me: the neighing of the horses, the creaking of the wooden walls surrounding me, a dog barking in the distance… In this hotchpotch of sounds I get to perceive some steps outside my room, followed by the shrieking of a stall door being opened. A thought strikes me then. That must be Kid. He should be leaving for town now.

I jump out of bed, and tiptoe to my door, which I open a crack. Then I sneak a glance outside and I catch sight of him, steering the wagon horse outside. When he leaves the stables, I push the door wide open and punch the wall with all my strength. "Damn!" I curse loudly as my knuckles get grazed painfully. My irritation returns full-steam and I plunk down on the bed. My left hand massages my sore knuckles, and my feet keep tapping the floor. I can't remain still, and from the bed I shift to the window which I look out from for just a few seconds, and then I start pacing up and down. My whole body seems to get a life of its own because my mind now is blank.

I don't know how long I keep restlessly bouncing about in my room, but at some point the walls seem to smother me. I need to breathe some fresh air or I'll go crazy. Unaware of my own motions, I find myself outside my room and the stables, but I don't stop here, and my feet lead me to town. My head doesn't want to acknowledge what my intentions are, but I do know I'm not walking to town just for some fresh air. My steps slow down as the local restaurant rises before my eyes. Its lit windows stand out against the darkness covering the streets, and I get drawn to them. I stand before one of the wide windows, and instantly spot Kid and the two women at one of the tables. He's talking and smiling, his delighted eyes directed to Debbie, who looks as happy as a clam.

My heart is thumping and I realize I'm shivering from the strange and unexpected pain that the image causes within me. An unwanted longing comes unleashed, and I'm throwing powerfully when a little nagging voice whispers that it's me I want Kid to smile and look at so lovingly. My hand flies to my mouth in horror, and I shake my head energetically. This is crazy, totally crazy. "What on earth am I doing here?" I say aloud in a trembling voice. What the hell is happening to me? I can't hanker after my friend as if I were stupidly besotted. I'm a man and shouldn't be jealous of the attentions Kid gets from so lovely a girl as Debbie Mason, and not the other way round. This is so wrong, and just these mere thoughts could well send me straight to hell. There must be an explanation about this. I'm just not being myself. It must be something I ate that is making me act up all strange, or maybe I'm coming down with something. Whatever it is, I'm actually feeling sick as I turn on my heel and fly away from my perch at the restaurant and from town as if I could thus escape my demons and sickening thoughts.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22**

**Author's note: The views expressed in this chapter do not reflect the opinions of the author. They simply express the nineteenth-century general attitude of people towards some sexual matters and behaviors, and Lou is just a product of her time. **

_Lou_

"Lou?"

Kid's voice sounds close, and when I look up, he's standing before me. He's wearing his Sunday best, looking exceptionally elegant, and as he removes his hat, he smiles in my direction.

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Have you?" I croak awkwardly, and when I look into his blue eyes, I find a strange light I'd never seen there before. Somehow that makes me nervous and fidgety. "I… I was just here."

Kid nods, and keeps thoughtful for a second. "I came to say you were right… right about Debbie. I can't love her."

I'm flummoxed by his words and my heart jumps in joy. This is what I've wanted to hear all along, and a satisfied smile settles on my lips automatically.

"And you know why?"

I shake my head with slow motions while my unblinking eyes keep staring into his blue gaze. There's still that uncanny quality there that unsettles me, but I try to shush my fears as I channel all my attention to him alone.

"Because it's _you _I want."

His words shock me and leave me speechless even though I reluctantly admit to myself that I share his same feelings. Before I can react or say something, he places his hand under my chin, tilts my head to him, and captures my lips in his. He kisses me, and I feel as if I were in heaven as I follow his lead. Not even my head or instincts tell me that what we're doing is wrong. This is what I want and long for. His lips are softer than I thought, and as I cup his stubbled cheeks in my palms, he brings me closer to him. My hands can't keep still, and from his face they travel to land on his strong back. He's a fine kisser, and I wish this had no end and could go on forever. Yet, he eventually pulls away.

My lips are sore and swollen from his ministrations, but I want more. However, now as I look at him, the reality of what we've done hits me powerfully. "This… oh my God… this is so wrong."

"I know, Lou."

"You are a man. I'm a man. Men aren't supposed to do this together."

"Yes, you're right."

"But I do want it. I … I love you," I finally confess and blush scarlet at my admission.

"I know."

"But… it's wrong. What will people think of us? What will Teaspoon or the boys think?"

"Well, that shouldn't matter to you, Lou."

"Why is that?"

"Uh… well," Kid starts, but instead of carrying on, he looks over his shoulder, and for the first time I realize that behind him Cody, Jimmy, Noah, Buck, and even Teaspoon stand in a neat line.

Cody takes a step closer to me and says, "Lou, you and Kid can do whatever you feel like as long as we all have our share too, right, fellas?"

Suddenly, to my horror he leans forward and I can feel his wet lips on me, and I'm shaken with a surge of total disgust.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

My scream echoes in the room and I realize that it's only been a dream, a horrible dream. This one is even worse than my recurrent nightmare about the worms falling from the sky. I'm mortified by the fact that I've dreamt that I kiss Kid as if he were my lover. And the worst is not that the other riders wanted me too, but that I seemed to enjoy it and brimmed with happiness while that shameful kiss was taking place.

It's been two days since I spied on Kid at the restaurant, and I've since been plagued by similar nightmares and strange thoughts. I can't understand what's happening to me. I try to deny what my whole self is eager to feed on, but it's an impossible task. Now whenever I see him, I start trembling from head to foot, and there's a strange longing within me that I don't know how it came to be in the first place. I don't want to feel this way, and I try in any possible way to avoid coming closer to Kid. I guess that the less I see of him, the better chances I have to overcome these weird sensations. He must still be angry with me after our fight the other day, so it ain't so hard to reduce

my contacts with him to nothing. I have even stopped having my meals in the bunkhouse. I simply come before or after the others have eaten, and take a plate with leftovers to my room, justifying myself before Rachel that I can't stop for even lunch or dinner as I'm too busy. I'm sure Rachel doesn't buy my excuses, but thankfully, she hasn't said anything about it.

Today Kid has a ride, and when I see him go, I'm washed by a huge sense of relief, but at the same time my heart sinks. Is this the way things are going to be from now on? Both of us walking in different directions? I fear I've lost my best friend, and even though I'd want nothing more than to have the easy relationship we've had so far, I know that can't be unless I get rid of the stupid sensations I have whenever I lay eyes on him. That perspective is even more dismal than the shame and disgust I feel for myself, but that's the only way out of this situation.

Days now drag endlessly, and I pull myself through every hour like an automaton. I speak to almost nobody, and I'm constantly in a wretched mood. My appetite is decaying to practically nothing, and at night I remain awake, silently whipping myself for the state I'm in. I keep bringing up excuses for these abnormal feelings I have, and I tell myself that since I've never had a real friend before, I'm just experiencing a very close attachment to Kid, which ain't so odd after all. Then I think of Esther and of the time I felt she was my friend and even considered I was in love with her, and when I compare my feelings back then and now, I realize that there's no possible justification. Every symptom of infatuation I learned in my books and was absent in my relationship with Esther are acutely present now.

I wash my hands and face before I head for the bunkhouse that night. In the small mirror above the washbowl, I get a glimpse of my reflection. My face looks so sallow and pinched, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm sick. Maybe I am sick in more ways than one, and the lack of food and sleep is simply adding up to my peaked looks.

I cross the yard slowly, and as I stand before the door, I can hear the laughter and voices of the others. At least, Kid ain't in today, but I don't plan to stay. I'll pick up my dinner, and force myself to eat it in my room. When I step inside, everybody greets me raucously, but I just nod in silence. From the sideboard I grab a plate and transfer from the pots at the stove a steak, some peas and carrots, and a glob of mashed potatoes into it. Just as I'm turning with the intention of leaving, I'm surprised as Rachel comes up to me and clutches my arm. "Don't even think about it," she says in a threatening tone.

"What?"

"You, sir, are going to sit here with us and eat your food. You know, this is a silly custom we keep here, and I expect everybody, even you, to stick to it."

"But… but I'm very tired."

"You're free to go as soon as you finish your dinner, but it ain't healthy the way you've been carrying on lately. You're losing weight, and with all the hard work you do you'll end up collapsing if you don't eat properly."

Naturally, I can't protest, and with obvious reluctance I sit down at the far end of the bench, next to Buck. Teaspoon says something about how I've lately been missed at the dinner table, and I give him a tense smile. For the next few minutes I keep toying with the food, rolling the peas and carrots from one extreme of the plate to the other, and eventually mix them with the mashed potatoes, but I make no attempt to scoop any to my mouth. There's conversation around me like usual, but my eyes are glued onto my plate and my uneaten food.

The door opens with its usual plunk as the latch slides free from its hold. I think it's Cody who says, "Hello, Kid!"

"You're early, son. I gather you had a good ride."

The mere mention of his name is enough to send me in a maelstrom of anxiety and distress. My body starts to tremble, and I silently pray I can remain unaffected. He's just a man like me; he's nothing, only my friend. Yet, there's no luck and I feel my body react on its own.

His steps echo close by, and I cringe when I realize that the only empty gap on the bench is opposite me. That's why I chose to sit here on purpose so that I could act as aloof as I could without having anybody checking on me from the opposite side. I lift my eyes fearfully when I feel his presence. His hair is wet from the shower he must have had now, and the soft aroma of the soap we all use fills my nostrils powerfully, and I breathe in deeply, impulsively trying to capture his essence in my lungs. My body will betray me, and I want to cry. Kid stands opposite me, and I see him look in my direction and open his mouth to say, "Hello, Lou."

My face crimsons as he utters my name, and I have the sensation everybody's eyes are on me, and I fear they all know the effect Kid is having on my soul right now. I'm ashamed and humiliated, and I feel a strong urge to escape. "Excuse me," I voice in a strained voice as I jump to my feet as if I had been scalded. In a flash I run out of the bunkhouse. The tears start pouring from my eyes as I dash across the yard, and when I reach my room, I collapse into my bed and terrible sobs rack my body, leaving me empty and utterly miserable. I don't think I've ever wailed like this before, not even as a child, but I can't help myself. I need to cry hard.

"Lou?"

I freeze when I hear the voice, and when I lift my face and see Rachel before me, I try to compose myself and wipe my tears with my trembling hands. Yet, I can't manage to get a grip of myself, and still sniffle and whimper. Rachel takes a few steps closer and stands hovering above my sprawling figure on the bed. "Lou, what's wrong?"

I shake my head as I'm unable to speak. I keep blubbering as I sit up, wiping the tears that wont' stop tricking from my eyes. Rachel lowers her body on the bed next to me and passes an arm around my shivering shoulders. She doesn't say or ask me anything, but stays there, comforting me with her presence. After a while, I sober a bit, and with a nasal voice I say, "My father would berate me for bawling like this. He says men never cry."

"And I say that's stupid," Rachel blurts out. "Both men and women have a heart and feelings, don't we?" I shrug my shoulders as Rachel eyes me warily. I can hear the question she ain't asking me, and soon enough her voice materializes the question burning on her mind. "Lou, what's wrong?"

I tense after her words and fold my arms over my chest as if I could protect myself from the world this way. I can't deny there's something wrong with me. Rachel has seen me weep as if there was not tomorrow, so how can I refuse to admit what is so evident? "I… I can't tell you."

"Lou," she continues, clutching my hand in hers. "I've noticed something's eating you lately, and whatever it is has a strong hold on you. You know, a trouble shared is a trouble halved."

"I can't tell you about this," I repeat. "It's too… too dirty and embarrassing."

Rachel smiles. "Maybe it just seems so to you, but let me tell you I don't get shocked too easily. I've seen and lived more than most women… actually, most folks. Whatever you have to say won't be much worse than some of the things I've already seen." I stare at her with obvious hesitation, so Rachel presses on, "What is it, honey?"

I keep quiet as I consider confessing my shame to her. If I'm honest with myself, I know I long to unload my soul to somebody, and I yearn for that somebody to tell me that what's happening to me ain't such a big deal and it ain't what I think it is. My mind refuses to believe I'm infatuated with another man, and I want to be reassured that I am not even though I'm fully aware that I'm just trying to find an excuse, a way out, a relief.

I remain thoughtful for a few seconds as I rack my brains for a way to explain to Rachel what is wrong in my life as of lately. After a beat, I start sheepishly, going over something Rachel already knows, but I have to make her understand my solitary upbringing. "Before I came here… to the station, I'd never had friends… ever. All I'd known was the place I grew up in and my father. That was my whole and only world."

"What about school?"

I shake my head. "My pa taught me everything I know."

"That must have been a very lonely existence."

I nod at her comment. "It was." I pause, heave a sigh, and add, "You, Teaspoon, and the boys are my first and only friends. It's great to have people you can trust and turn to, but… but… but…" I can't come up with a way to describe my situation, and all I manage to do is to stammer the same word over and over.

"But what, Lou?"

I swallow and sigh again. "It's… it's Kid. Something ain't right with him."

"I know."

Those two words feel like a stinging slap on my face, and I stare at her wide-eyed and in shock. "You know?" I ask, my tone sounding more like an accusation than a proper question.

"I heard about the disagreement you two had over Debbie."

"Oh that," I let out crestfallen. For a minute I thought Rachel knew everything and I'd been saved from awkwardly detailing the nature of my feelings to her. A hope had even sparked within me when she didn't sound so concerned, and for a second I believed she could soothe my fears for something that was not as important as I might have thought. Unfortunately, Rachel got the wrong end of the stick.

"I thought you two were best friends," Rachel continues when I keep quiet.

"We are," I state almost possessively. "Or we were, I don't know."

"Lou, I wouldn't worry too much about Kid and your argument. The boys are continuously at each other's throats and more than once have exchanged a few punches. Yet, at the end of the day every one of them would lay down their lives for the others. There's a very strong connection between all of us, and I'm sure you and Kid will end up sorting out whatever has caused your rift."

"Rachel, it's … it ain't that I'm worried about," I say in a small voice. "What happened the other day ain't a problem to me. My problem is that we get on perfectly… too well, in fact."

Rachel stares at me uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand."

I sigh for the umpteenth time as I prepare myself to let the cat out of the bag. My confession will likely turn Rachel against me, and who knows, I may even end up without a job, but this is something I need to get off my chest whatever the consequences. I didn't know how much I longed to unload myself, and now that I'm finally spilling the beans, I can't stop. "I… lately all I can think of is him… Kid. He's in my thoughts all day long and at night he's in my dreams. And when he's close to me, I tremble, blush, and all my body reacts powerfully to his presence. I don't know why this is happening to me, Rachel. I'm aware that this is totally wrong!"

"Oh honey," Rachel whispers, and instead of the revulsion I expected to see in her face, I find sympathy and tenderness. I fear she hasn't understood what I've tried to tell her. Yet, her next words clearly show me that she does know what I've meant. "Lou, most people would scorn anybody in a situation such as the one you're telling me about, but as I've told you, I've seen too much in this life, and I know these things do happen."

"But I don't want it to happen to me!"

.

"Lou, you shouldn't beat yourself for this. You're young… too young, and with all probability what you're feeling is nothing but fleeting."

"But what if it isn't?" I ask tersely. "Rachel, at the social a few weeks ago that girl, Esther… I… I kissed her, and I didn't like it. In fact, I felt totally disgusted."

"That doesn't mean anything. You can't like all girls."

"And if I don't like any?" My voice and my whole body is shaking so badly that I have to stop to take a deep breath before continuing. "The boys are always talking about girls and… and I don't really share what they say."

"Oh Lou, haven't you learned by now that you have to take what those boys say with a pinch of salt… rather with a handful?" She smiles in a vain attempt to lift my spirits, but I'm hopeless and too sad to manage the tiniest smile. "Lou, let me tell you again. Please don't torture yourself if your feelings are… different. That doesn't make you a lesser person, but I'm sorry for you because it won't be easy. It's a long, hard road for your kind of men, but there are others like you, unfortunately, not Kid."

I stare at her in disbelief and shock. "I have no intention to act on my feelings! I won't do anything. All I want is to be like the rest. I want to be like other men, fall in love with a nice girl, and do as it is expected from me as a man."

"I know, honey."

"And… what am I supposed to do about Kid?" I ask in the same loud, struggling tone. "What do I do with these... feelings and horrible sensations? How can I whisk them away?"

"I don't know."

"I can't live like this, Rachel. I'm keeping away from him as much as possible, but it hurts so much and I miss him. All this is driving me crazy."

Rachel squeezes my hand. "I don't know what to say, honey. I can't really put myself in your shoes, but at least, you've talked to me, and know I'm here for you whenever you need a shoulder to cry on."

"And I appreciate it, Rachel," I reply sincerely. "Anybody would have recoiled from me in disgust, even my father… especially my father." I tremble, just thinking what he'd say or do if he knew. He hit the roof when I stated I was in love with a girl. Ironic, ain't it? I'm sure he'd go ballistic if he learned his son had feelings for a man.

"You're a good boy, Lou. Never let anybody tell you otherwise. Your heart is pure, and if it is real that the seed of love is planted in you, don't feel ashamed for loving… never. What you feel may be wrong for most people, but for me it shows you're sensitive and have goodness in you, or else, you wouldn't be so upset."

I blush. I haven't mentioned I love Kid, and my first reaction is to deny it and claim I can't be in love with a man. I'd rather believe her first explanation, that what I'm feeling is something fleeting I can overcome. Yet, I don't say anything and simply nod. "I'm scared, Rachel, so scared."

"I know."

"And I'm even more afraid of losing my best friend if I can't control this." Rachel doesn't reply. What can she tell me anyway? I just want Kid to be my friend… only my friend, and despite my hidden longing and those dreams, I know what my position is and what I do want.

"Rachel, you won't breath a word of this to anybody, will you?" She's been so understanding, but I'm pretty sure that won't be the case if others get wind of what I conceal in my heart.

Rachel just shakes her head and smile. For the first time in days I manage to shape my lips into an awkward grin, which naturally doesn't reflect my mood, but even that small smile is too much and almost immediately my bleak situation overflows my control. I feel an unavoidable urge to cry, and once again tears of pain and shame roll down my cheeks, but this time I'm not alone. Rachel embraces and comforts me as I cry bitterly against her chest.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 23**

_Kid_

This morning Jimmy and I have been mending part of the corral fence that one of the broncos kicked and splintered a few days ago. When Rachel calls us for lunch, we drop our hammers and the wood boards with relief. I'm starving, and my stomach lurches at the thought of the hot food that expects me in the bunkhouse.

As Jimmy and I cross the yard, I get a glimpse of Lou coming out of the stables. He's seen us too, but he pretends he hasn't and quickens his steps. I assume he doesn't want to talk or walk with us, as this is his way as of lately. Since Lou and I had the argument a week ago, we haven't exchanged a single word. I admit that I overreacted at his honesty and criticism, and I shouldn't have gone for his jugular like I did. No wonder he's been avoiding me like the plague, but what I don't get is why he's stopped any contact with the others as well and keeps to himself. The only person I've noticed he's now closer to is Rachel.

I really want to forget about our stupid disagreement and patch things up with him. Lou's been a good friend to me since he came to live here, and I don't like being at odds around him. I've tried to talk to him, but he always manages to give me the slip, but it's true we've all been very busy in the last days to get the chance to talk things through.

"Lou still in a weird mood?" Jimmy asks, voicing my thoughts as we see him disappear into the bunkhouse.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I reply, giving him a clueless grimace.

When we step into the bunkhouse, my eyes instantly bolt to where Lou is. Like usual, he's sitting on the further end of the bench next to Jesse. His back is hunched and his face lowered as if he wanted to make himself invisible or very small. When Jimmy and I say our hellos, he doesn't move an inch, much less to open his mouth to reply.

"Boys, where's Cody?" Rachel asks as we remove our hats and coats and leave them on the pegs next to the door.

As if on cue, Cody bursts in, and in barely a few seconds he sheds his frilled coat, plunks down on the bench, grabs a plate, and starts munching a piece of biscuit.

"God forbid a single day goes by without lunch for Cody," Rachel says humorously as she carries the soup tureen to the table.

"Can a man get by without air for a second, Rachel?" Cody retaliates. "Just in the same way, a hard worker like me deserves a plate of hot food waiting at his table."

"Cody, do us a favor: shut up and do what you can do best, eat," Jimmy scoffs tetchily.

"That, my friend, is something I'm delighted to comply to," Cody replies, brandishing his spoon that he instantly sinks in the soup as soon as Rachel fills his plate.

I intentionally sit opposite Lou, and as I slide onto the bench, my knees collide with his under the table. I feel him move his legs away quickly, and as I shift my eyes to him, intending to apologize, I notice he's shivering under the thick coat he's still wearing even though it's warm and cozy inside the bunkhouse. "Lou, are you all right?"

My voice startles him, and I see him jerk. Without lifting his eyes, he mutters a very soft yes. His hands wrap his coat more tightly around his thin body, and I can still notice his shivering.

"You don't have a fever, do you?" I insist.

My question alerts Rachel, who in a few strides comes next to Lou. "Are you feeling all right, honey?" she asks, feeling Lou's forehead to check his temperature.

"I'm fine," Lou responds gruffly, and for an instant he raises his eyes and meets mine, but just as quickly he looks away.

"You're right. No sign of a fever," Rachel agrees and then resumes serving the steaming soup.

Cody catches my eye and gives me a crooked grin. For a moment I fear he's gonna open his gob and drop one of his out-of-place comments. I'm convinced there's something more than our disagreement that is troubling Lou, and that's why I don't think she should hear one of Cody's wisecracks. Thankfully, Cody seems to be too busy enjoying his food so he doesn't bother to speak up.

Today lunch is a small event. Buck and Noah are both away on rides, and Teaspoon has sent word that he's busy in town and won't make it for lunch. The bunkhouse is unusually quiet for a few moments with just the clanking of spoons against the tin plates and very soft slurping sounds breaking the silence. That can't last when Cody's present, and as expected, his voice breaks the peace and quiet after he's finished his soup.

"Kid, guess who I saw in town today."

I ain't in the mood for guessing games, and even though I'm sure I shouldn't care who Cody's talking about, I ask anyway, "Who?"

"Debbie, and she asked about you." I nod unenthusiastically, and Cody adds, "You haven't told us yet what's going on between you two, and we're curious."

I sigh, hating to become the centre of attention, and in the few seconds I take to reply, I notice that Lou has stopped eating his soup, and the slight tilt of his head shows he's also keen on learning about me and Debbie. "You already know," I start. "I invited her to have dinner with me early this week, and then she and her family had me round for lunch yesterday."

"And…" Cody presses on with obvious eagerness.

"And what?" I echoed, acting as if I had no idea what he's getting at.

"We want to know whether you finally disclosed Miss Mason's most secret charms."

"Cody!" Rachel scolds at Cody's lack of tact while he and Jimmy chuckle. Even Jesse is grinning, and unsurprisingly Lou remains unresponsive and keeps his eyes down.

To be honest, Cody's words aren't far off the mark. The moment I first set eyes on Debbie Mason, I was a goner. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It came as no surprise when I learned she was already spoken for, but that didn't stop me from getting all flustered whenever I saw her. So when I finally had my chance a week ago, I was as excited and happy as a child on Christmas Day. Not even did my argument with Lou dampen my mood. Yet, the couple of times I've seen Debbie haven't really lived up to my expectations. I ain't sure what I expected, but I'm afraid I might have been dazzled by her luminous beauty, but at close range the light just dims disappointingly. Debbie is doubtlessly a nice girl, but the devouring, overwhelming fondness I hoped to feel didn't happen. There's some kind of invisible barrier that keeps us apart, and to my utter bewilderment, I have no desire to cross to the other side. Lately I've wondered if maybe what I need is to know her better, but I don't want to mislead her if I don't feel the way I consider one must feel when in love.

"Cody," I say after a few seconds. "I don't usually talk about the ladies I befriend in mixed company and in those terms, and I ain't gonna start now."

My smile gives him the wrong impression, or maybe simply because it's Cody, his brain is always laced with the same randy thoughts. "Oh Kid, you're so obvious that you don't need to say a word!"

I shake my head, and the protest is on the tip of my tongue when Lou rises to his feet, distracting my intentions. As he picks up his plate and walks to the sink, Rachel exclaims, "Lou, don't tell me that's all you plan to eat for lunch!"

With his back turned to us, he says, "Sorry, Rachel, but I ain't hungry."

I see Rachel ain't happy about his response. For her mealtimes and food are sacred, and this ain't the first time this week we've witnessed the same exchange between her and Lou. I can't blame her for being concerned. Nobody has missed how little Lou's eating lately. If he gets any thinner, he'll become all bones and no flesh, and with working as hard as he does, he'll fall ill eventually.

Without a word Lou walks out, and as the door closes behind, Cody exclaims, "Heck, he's being weirder than usual… if that's even possible."

"Cody, please."

"Rachel, come on! You can't be blind to what we all can see! Lou might not be a half-wit as the peddler claimed he was, but he's damn weird… weird, weird, weird."

Jimmy nods his agreement reluctantly, and even though I want to deny Cody's words and defend my friend, I can't help but silently admit that Lou's actually been acting very peculiarly in the last week. It's unfair of Cody to put him down like this anyway, and as I'm about to jump to his defense, Rachel beat me to it.

"Cody, just leave Lou alone. He's going through a very rough patch, and the last thing he needs right now is your smart-pants attitude."

At once her words fill me with worry. I've suspected that our disagreement couldn't have rattled Lou so much as to cause him to act so aloof and bizarre. Something else must have triggered this odd attitude of his, and now that Rachel confirms my suspicions, I grow concerned. I feel quite like his protector in some kind of way. He might not be much younger than me, but he looks so vulnerable and sounds so naïve that I can't help but want to bring him under my wing. I guess Jimmy feels the same way for Jesse, like a big brother.

"What's wrong with Lou?"

Rachel gives me a blank look and says, "This applies to you too, Kid. Leave Lou alone."

"But…"

"Just leave him alone."

I ain't usually the rebellious type, and I've always obeyed rules to a fault. However, this time I can't stay put. I don't know what's happening to Lou, and the uncertainty of what he must be going through makes me think the worst. Rachel might have her reasons to tell me not to bother him, but… Lou's my friend, and what kind of friend would I be if I remained indifferent, knowing he's having it hard?

When the boys turn in that night, I decide to visit with Katy. This is why I head for the stables, but I also have an ulterior motive. Katy is just an excuse, and once inside I don't linger around my mare's stall but wander further down the corridor. I end up outside Lou's room, and from the gap under his door I can see light. He ain't sleeping yet, so without hesitation I rap my knuckles against the wooden surface of the door. I can hear a very vague rustle of clothes and a faint creak of the wooden boards as if he had risen from bed. However, my call remains unanswered, but after a few seconds I knock again. "Lou, I know you're awake. Please open up."

My words come into effect, and the door opens. Lou appears before me in an awkward stance: his arms folded over his chest, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes staring at me strangely. Somehow I can perceive fear in his whole self, and that worries me even more. He doesn't say anything, so I step in first, "Can we talk?"

"What do you want, Kid?"

His figure standing between the door jambs clearly tells me that taking this inside the room is out of question. Lou looks troubled and apprehensive, and now that I'm here, I don't know how to put my concerns into words. I dawdle for a few seconds, and then all I manage to say is a clumsy 'I'm sorry, Lou'.

He narrows his eyes and gazes at me with a clueless expression. "What?"

"I'm sorry for what I said the other day," I finally manage to utter something coherent. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that when you were simply offering some advice."

He breathes out after my apology, and I can notice he doesn't seem so tense. "And I shouldn't have said anything about Debbie when I don't know her. It was uncalled for, and you had a right to be angry with me." He pauses for a second, and a tiny forced smile appears on his still troubled face when he adds, "I'm really glad for you… and her."

I don't know why, but I don't set him right about me and Debbie. There's nothing going on between us, and I don't think there will ever be. I ain't even sure we can be friends. On the couple of occasions we've talked, I've realized we sail on different boats. The magic is definitely broken, but I haven't come here to talk about Debbie.

"Can I assume everything's fine between us, Lou? We don't need to go out of our ways to avoid each other any longer," I say, grinning in an attempt to lift the mood between us. However, Lou remains serious and unsmiling, and that makes me nervous. "Lou, what's wrong? And don't say it's nothing because I can see you ain't being your usual self."

He gazes at me with his big bright eyes, and for a moment I fear he's going to cry. Yet, to my relief he remains dry-eyed as he says, "I… I've been thinking about the time we went to see my father… about what he said. I… I think I might quit here and go back home. That's what Pa wants me to do, and it ain't right for me to defy him and go against his wishes."

A surge of heat lights my face and a mixture of disappointment and fear overcomes me. "Lou, no! How can you even consider doing something like that? Your father won't be released from that prison for five long years. Can you honestly tell me you'll be happy living up there on your own?"

Lou lowers his eyes. "I guess not, but I ain't sure I can be happy here either."

"Why?" I ask, wondering what has possibly happened to change him so much.

"You wouldn't understand. Things are very difficult for me here, and… and I can't get used to this life."

I wonder if all this has to do with that episode with Esther. "Lou, please don't do this over what happened with that girl, Esther. That's not the end of the world or even the beginning. There are more girls… and … and." I pause, and even though the idea that strikes me suddenly goes against my intentions, I'm ready to do whatever I can to help Lou. "Maybe I can talk Debbie into introducing you to one of her friends, and we four can go to…"

"No, it ain't that, Kid!" Lou snaps loudly. "I told you; it's just my life here. You can't possibly understand."

I have the hunch he's lying, but rather than calling him on his lie, I decide to follow another direction. "Lou, I never thought you were a quitter."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe I'm one."

"I don't think so," I reply in my best stubborn self. "I know you're a fighter, and I'm sure it's just a question of time and you'll get over whatever you ain't telling me." Lou gives me a surprised look at my words, and I add, "I think I've gotten to know you pretty well in this time, and I can tell you're hiding something."

"I… I can't tell you…"

"And it's fine. You don't have to," I respond, cutting him off. "But please don't flee from your problems because sooner or later they'll end up finding you."

"I don't know, Kid."

"Just promise me you'll stay one more month," I insist. "I'm sure all you need is time, but if you're still convinced you need to go back home after those weeks, I'll pack your stuff myself."

Lou doesn't smile, but even in his miserable mood he shrugs his shoulders, agreeing with my request, and that's all it takes for me to feel as pleased as punch. I don't like the idea of Lou in that cabin all alone; anybody would go crazy in that place, and I'm convinced he can be so much more here. He's a great pal, and I'd be sorry to see him go. Maybe I've become his particular pain in the neck, but I need to make him realize he's wanted and appreciated here. I used to be very much like him, solitary and unsure of myself, but now I know I have friends I can trust, and Teaspoon and the others have become my real family. If only he knew how big a part of us he has become in this short time… Maybe, as Cody says, he's peculiar and different… but aren't we all different? Lou shouldn't care about what Cody and others say or think. He's Lou, my friend, and I really like him… just the way he is.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 24**

_Rachel_

I look out the window into the yard. Right. The boys are waiting outside the stables, and the wagon is already hitched up. Like every Thursday a long shopping list is stuck in my reticule, every line waiting to be crossed out as provisions are added to my basket and Tompkins' account. It seems that the said list grows bigger and bigger with each passing week. When I first came to work for Teaspoon, we used to buy almost half of what we do now. These boys and our dear marshal wolf down more and more as they grow older, and it's becoming increasingly more expensive to satisfy their big appetites.

Once I've slid into my warm coat, I pick up my basket and reticule. I'm ready to go. As I clomp towards the stables, I spot Kid, Jimmy, and Buck idly talking outside. "Boys, I'm ready to go," I announce when I reach them. The three of them turn to me and silently nod.

Buck walks to the front of the wagon and spryly jumps onto the seat, grabbing the reins. When I'm placing my basket on the bed of the buckboard, Lou comes out, carrying a bale of hay he drops by the door. I smile at him, and Kid, who stands next to me, says, "Hey, Lou, we're going to town! Why don't you take a respite and come with us? We always get to have some free time to roam the streets, and today we don't even have Cody to come bothering us."

Kid's cheerful tone sharply contrasts with Lou's countenance, which looks almost panicky and torturous. I really feel for him, fighting a lost battle within himself, which I'm sure he wouldn't wish for his worst enemy. It's obvious that he's facing up to his unwanted feelings the only way he can. I wish I could help him somehow, but I'm as useful as dirty water. Kid, thankfully, is unaware of his friend's torment, and whereas Lou tries his best to keep away from him, Kid seems adamant to engage him in anything he can think of to re-spark their friendship. I know Kid's afraid Lou might decide to leave Rock Creek and the station, which I'm pretty sure he might have done by now if Kid hadn't talked him into waiting for a few weeks before making a rash decision. I can see how hard this is for Lou, and how much he's suffering, but I agree with Kid on this. I think that running away ain't a solution to his problems.

For a few seconds Lou stares at Kid and finally shakes his head. He doesn't say a word and marches back into the stables. As I toss a look at Kid, I notice his concerned expression while he watches Lou's figure disappear. I'm sorry for him too. I'm certain that Kid's very fond of Lou as a friend, and it's understandable that he feels this confused and even hurt about Lou's cold attitude.

"Excuse me for a minute," I say and resolutely march into the stables. "Lou?" I call as the dim atmosphere inside blinds me for a minute. I receive no answer, but when my eyes get used to the lack of light, I spot him, leaning against a stall door and looking visibly dejected. "Lou?" I call again and walk closer.

He looks up and even though his countenance has relaxed a bit, he still oozes sadness through every pore of his body. "Yes, Rachel?"

I take a few steps closer. "Lou, honey, you can't carry on like this. It ain't healthy. You need to stop hiding."

"What else am I supposed to do, Rachel?" he snaps impatiently.

"You have to find a way to be around Kid without panicking."

"I can't do that!" he hisses. "Don't you remember what we talked about? I wish I could return to the way Kid and I were, but I can't… I just can't."

"I'm sure it ain't easy, but time heals things, Lou. Love often comes and goes, and I'm pretty sure that everybody at some point in their lives has had to nurture a broken heart. Kid and what you feel now will one day become just a memory."

Lou shakes his head. "I really hope you're right. This is the worst thing that could've happened to me."

I don't succeed in persuading Lou to come to town with us. He still thinks that the best thing he can do is to leave Rock Creek forever and return to his farm. I guess everything looks pretty grim from where he stands, but I hope he doesn't take things that far. This is naturally something out of my depth, and I hate to feel so useless and unable to help him. I've never been too judgmental about other people, and as I told Lou, in my life I've known men who enjoyed being with other men and women who liked other women. I was never bothered or shared the opinions of those who labeled those relationships as vicious, perverted, or wicked. I always thought that as long as nobody's hurt, why should I poke my nose in other people's relationships? However, I've never given the matter much thought until now, and if I'm honest with myself, I ain't sure what to think or what advice to give Lou.

Today before heading for Tompkins to make our purchases, I let the boys wander off in Rock Creek while I visit with Teaspoon. We sit on the bench outside his office. The air is cold and crispy, but I find it invigorating to feel its freshness on the skin of my face. After making small talk for almost half an hour, Teaspoon asks me about Lou. It's no wonder he's noticed the boy's battling some issues. By the way Lou carries himself, one'd have to be blind not to notice there's something wrong with him. I brush off Teaspoon's concern because this ain't something I can tell him, but he insists.

"But you know what's botherin' the boy, don't ya?"

I breathe in deeply, and I feel a faint acrid smell in the air, a reminder that not far stubble is being burned and fields prepared for the new season. "Yes, I know."

"Is it serious?"

"Quite," I reply sincerely, "especially for him."

Teaspoon nods and gives me a half smile. "If the boy has decided to place his trust in you, then he's in good hands."

"Oh Teaspoon, I don't know if that's true!" I exclaim mortified. "I can't help him at all."

"And you can't tell me what it is."

I shake my head, confirming his words. "It's too complicated."

Teaspoon doesn't utter another sound, and we relapse into companiable silence. From our stand we watch people walk past and we respond to friendly and not-so-friendly greetings of almost every single passer-by. I'm increasingly aware that the burning smell I noticed before is more notable and closer. My eyes casually travel to the end of the street, and it is then that I see a big column of black smoke rising just behind the building, where the station is. "Oh my God!" I shriek horrified, jumping to my feet, and I realize that Teaspoon has noticed the frightening smoke too.

In that same instant Kid, Jimmy, and Buck come dashing down the street with obvious signs of distress. Some people have also stopped to look at the smoke and point their fingers in that direction, and there's a bit of a hubbub. The five of us dart towards the station, and our fears become a reality as to our horror we see flames lapping the stables.

"What the hell has happened here?" Teaspoon exclaimed, and his rhetorical question naturally remains unanswered as the boys rush past us. Buck and Jimmy bolt for the outside pump and instantly start filling pails of water. Kid, though, runs straight for the stables and in a frantic voice he starts crying out, "Lou! Lou! You hear me? Lou!"

When I breathlessly reach him, it is with utter relief that we see Lou stumble out of the stables and pull one of the horses along. His face is covered in soot, and his clothes are also dirty and the cuffs of his shirt and his pants' lower edge are seared. "Oh Lou, thank God!" he exclaims, resting a hand on Lou's back as if sheltering him from the burning stables.

"What happened?" I ask.

Lou tries to talk, but he's overcome by a bout of coughing. He disengages himself from Kid, and lets go of the reins. The horse then runs loose and joins the other animals I now notice for the first time are loitering restlessly all over the yard. "It's fine. Don't talk," I say, and I place a hand on his elbow, intending to steer him away from the inferno the stables have become.

Lou unclasps my hand, and in a hoarse voice he says, "Lightning's still inside. I need to get to her."

"Lou no!" I cry, but my words do little to stop his intentions, and before I can do anything, he braves it and returns to the blazing building. And to my horror, Kid follows him. I stay there before the threatening stables, unmoving and in a panic. Teaspoon has taken charge like usual, and is directing all the people who've volunteered to help in a line so that the water from the pump can rapidly be transported from hand to hand and douse the fire in no time.

"Teaspoon!" I call desperately. "Lou and Kid are inside!"

I can see this doesn't please him one bit. "Are those boys out of their minds or what?"

The common effort from the boys and our neighbors has little effect to kill the flames that not only threaten the building but the lives of Kid and Lou as well. I stand transfixed, staring at the door and mumbling a prayer. It was the longest, most terrifying moment in my life, and I almost cry and weep when I finally see the two boys emerge with Lightning in tow.

The mare is logically spooked after her encounter with the fire, and I'm sure she can feel the distress around her even though Kid tries to soothe her. When they're out, Lightning trots away and joins the other animals around the yard. "Are you boys all right?" I ask. Kid silently nods, but Lou starts coughing terribly and his breathing sounds ragged and labored. He staggers and falls to his knees, fighting for breath.

"Lou!" I once again call his name desperately and drop onto my knees by his side, stroking his back while he struggles to breathe. I ain't alone; Teaspoon and Kid stand next to me with obvious concern. Lou tries unsuccessfully to control his coughing and even attempts to speak, but that makes him hack more. "Lou, you better not talk now," Kid says.

"Kid, you give a hand to Rachel takin' Lou inside the house, and I'll bring the doctor."

As Kid and I help Lou back to his feet, he shakes his head and manages to utter, "No… no…no doctor. I… I… I… fine."

"Honey, we'll see. Don't worry about that now," I try to soothe him the best I can. Kid slings Lou's right arm over his shoulder and I do the same from the other side, and then we set for the house. Lou's feet trail along the dusty yard as the two of us move him. He doesn't protest, and his body slumps forward as if he had no energy. But even so, he's so light that I can hardly feel his weight.

Getting him up the stairs ain't easy, but somehow Lou manages to cooperate and climb the steps with our help. Yet, when we reach my spare bedroom and lay him down on the bed, I realize he's passed out, probably from exhaustion.

"Do you think he's all right?"

"He just fainted," I reply to Kid while on my knees on the bed I carefully move Lou to make him as comfortable as possible. "But he's breathing better now, thank God."

There's still a ruckus of voices outside as presumably the flames are still causing havoc and the men are trying to put the fire down. "I guess I'll go and help out," Kid mutters but his pose and expression obviously show his reluctance to leave his friend.

I smile and think how glad Lou'd be to know how much Kid cares for him. His fondness, naturally, ain't the kind Lou could hope for, though, but I reckon he'll be pleased to learn how real Kid's friendship is.

"He's fine, Kid," I reassure him. "And the doctor's coming. There's no need to fret."

Kid nods, and when he leaves, I briefly go to the kitchen and heat some water to wash Lou with. When I return with the steaming jug, soap, and some cloths, Lou's still out, but thankfully his breathing doesn't sound as terrible as when Kid and I frog-marched him up here.

I place the pot on the dresser and study Lou's unconscious form. His face is black with soot, so I better wipe all that grime off before the doctor comes over. I dip a rag into the hot water and rub some soap on it. As I come closer to the bed, I can hear a slight rumor in Lou's breathing, but hopefully, that'll go soon. With the sudsy cloth I manage to remove all the soot off his face, and then I dry him with a clean towel.

There's a knock at the door, and when I open it, Teaspoon stands before me. "How's Lou doin'?" he asks, throwing a look over my shoulder to see the boy lying in bed.

"I think he's better, but I guess all the smoke he inhaled and the effort to get the horses out have caught up with him, and he's collapsed. Sleep will do him good. Is the doctor on his way then, Teaspoon?"

He shakes his head. "Mrs. Hannah's havin' her baby at this very moment, so I'm afraid Dr. Johnson won't be able to come here for a while."

"I think what Lou needs right now is to rest."

When Teaspoon goes, I return to the bedroom. A burning stench lingers in the air, and I walk to the window. Prodding against its frame, I look out and am relieved to see the men have won their battle against the flames. The building is still standing, but I can see the harm the fire has caused on its external shell. The façade displays fire-drilled gaps over its surface, the hayloft top door is dangling dangerously on one hinge, and the only wall I can see from here is pockmarked by a black spread. I can't imagine what the inside may look like, but I fear the stables will need a lot of work to repair, or at worst, one new building will have to be built from scratch.

I shift my eyes from the window to the bed. Lou hasn't stirred yet, and I study him from head to foot. His clothes are in a pitiful state; his shirt and trousers are singed after his struggle to get the animals safe and away from the fire. Cinder and soot have also made their way under his clothes, and the skin on his neck is as black as his face was a moment ago. I think I better help him out of those ruined clothes and make him as presentable and comfortable as possible.

After getting some fresh clothes from the pile of ironed laundry I had downstairs, I pull his shoes off, and then I carefully strip off his pants. Removing his shirt ain't an easy task as I have to maneuver him so that I can free him from the garment. Thankfully, Lou is very light, or I'd have needed to call one of the boys to help me. As I suspected, grime has snuck under his clothes and his long johns look nothing like their usual white. As I start undoing the buttons of his top, he grunts, and his eyes fluttered for a bit until they open.

I smile down at him. "How are you feeling, Lou?"

"My throat… it's sore," he says coarsely as he slowly sits up in bed.

"It's natural. You sucked in a lot of smoke." Lou stares at me as if he had no idea what I'm talking about. "Don't you remember? There was a fire at the stables."

Lou nods ruefully. "I didn't notice the fire until it was too late," he explains in a tiny voice. "I was working by the corral. I should've realized what was going on a few feet away. I feel so dumb, and it's all my fault the stables burned to cinder. Teaspoon will certainly fire me now."

"Lou, stop that this moment! It was nobody's fault, you hear me? And remember, you saved all the animals, risking your own life!"

"If I… I had noticed earlier…"

"Lou…" I admonish, and thankfully, he doesn't insist on his own self-flagellation. Who knows what possibly started that fire, but it does Lou no good to hurl self-accusations about something he's obviously blameless for.

"Let me help you out of that dirty, smoke-smelling top," I say, and when I try to roll the garment up his trunk, Lou stops me by folding his arms over his chest protectively.

"It ain't right to get undressed before another person, especially a lady!" he exclaims, and as his eyes look over his own figure, he stares at me in horror when he realizes he's only in his underwear.

"Oh Lou! I'm way past shock after being around these boys of ours for almost a year. You needn't be shy around me, honey. We do need to get you out of those dirty clothes and clean you. I'm here to help, that's all."

Lou's still reluctant, but he finally unhooks his arms. His shyness and prudishness are sweet, and I smile while he eyes me too seriously. He still has a slight cough, and I finally pull the top over his head and drop the garment onto the floor. "Can you wash up or do you need a hand?" I ask as I move the hot water and the soap I used before to clean his face onto the stand next to his bed.

"I can manage. Thanks, Rachel."

As I turn to look at Lou, he picks up the wet rag and starts rubbing his chest. That simple routine which I claimed wouldn't shock me actually does floor me completely. I'm agape and wide-eyed as I unavoidably glance at his front, which I hadn't noticed till now. There's something unmistakably wrong, and as I stare at his nudity, my mind swirls and gets dizzy as I can't make heads or tails about what I'm witnessing. There's no doubt about it. The difference stands out clearly. I know some men develop their chests in unusual ways, but this ain't a man's chest I'm seeing… My eyes travel from Lou's chest and lower to his modest legs, and I double check what should be there, encased in the long johns bottoms, and is absent.

Lou must have noticed my expression. "Is there something wrong, Rachel?"

I try to get a grip of myself and plaster a simile on my lips, and as I lift my eyes, it's as if I was seeing Lou for the first time, and I believe that is true in more than one sense. Lou's a woman. A woman! And now that I watch her, I can see why his… her face always seemed so sweet and pretty to me, why he… why she's even smaller and more petite than many women. Why I didn't see that before… I have no idea. Everybody, including me, assumed she was a man because she wears pants, has short hair, and she claims to be male. Of course we all knew there was something different, something missing, but not one of us figured out what that lost piece could be.

And what about Lou? Does she know who she really is? I'm pretty sure she's as clueless as we all are… or I've been till now. Remembering her distress and torture when she told me she had shameful feelings for Kid just speaks for itself. Of course she has feelings for a man! She's a woman and feeling like such!

"Rachel?" Lou calls my name. Her furrowed brow tells me that I'm making a poor show of concealing my shock.

"It's… it's nothing," I reply clumsily. I want to understand this mess and Lou, and why her feminine condition has been kept hidden from the world. I'm convinced she doesn't know about her own self, but I want to have some proof that she hasn't been playing along all this time. "I… I was thinking how shy and easily embarrassed you are. Most men don't usually show that modesty."

Lou gets into her fresh long johns top, covering her naked chest. "I… I guess that's because of the way I was raised. My father's very strict about that. He used to scold me if I no more than left the door ajar when I was getting changed."

I nod. Yes, her father. He knows Lou's a girl, but for some obscure reason he raised her as a boy and made her believe he was one. The reason why somebody could do that escapes my grasp, but I think it's a total outrage. How could anybody snatch the sacred right anybody should have to know about their own person? How could Lou's pa do that to his own daughter? That's cruel and inhumane. Lou's been suffering tremendously and unnecessarily for the last week just because she started to feel like the woman she is.

"So you've never seen anybody in the nude?" I ask as casually as I can.

Lou blushes. "No, of course not. Wh… why do you ask me that, Rachel?"

I shrug my shoulders. "No reason. I'm just being a nosy busybody, that's all."

Even though I try to joke, I know Lou ain't comfortable with this talk about nudity, especially when she's in her underwear. To be honest, I ain't feeling too much at ease after finding out something even though Lou doesn't have a clue. I need to go and think well about what to do with this disturbing revelation.

"Lou, why don't you finish washing up while I go to the bunkhouse? I think you should rest here for the remainder of the day. I'll bring you some food later."

"But I feel fine!"

"Don't argue with me, young l… " I almost slip and call her young lady, but I'm fast to cover my blunder with a convenient cough. Before Lou can protest any further, I dash out of the bedroom.

My head is in turmoil as I cross the yard towards the bunkhouse. Should I have told Lou? Learning that you ain't who you thought you were will be a terrible blow. Lou's grown up, believing she's a man and should behave and live like one. How can one face up to the fact that all your life is a lie… that you yourself are a fake?

When I slip into the bunkhouse, Teaspoon, Jesse, and the riders are inside. Cody's back from his ride, and Jimmy's trying to light the range to heat the stew I cooked earlier. Any other time I'd have taken over from him, but I'm too shaken and tired after the scare of the fire and the shock over Lou. So I sink down on the bench and exhale hard.

"How's Lou doing?" Kid instantly asks.

"Fine… fine," I reply vaguely.

"Rachel, are you all right?"

I shake my head at Teaspoon's question. "I…" My voice falters, and after heaving a sigh, I add, "If I could, I'd have a drink right now."

The men exchange wary looks. Jimmy comes over and sits next to Kid. "You look as if you'd seen a ghost," he says.

I don't speak up at once as I debate with myself whether I should reveal what I've found out. It doesn't feel right for me and others to know what Lou still has no idea about. Yet, this is something I can't keep just for myself. It's too big, and I need to get it off my chest. "I… I ain't sure if I should say anything, but I… but there's something I need to tell you about Lou."

"What about him?" Cody asks, eager to know what I sound so mysterious about.

I sigh again. "This… this ain't easy."

"Rachel, you're scarin' us," Teaspoon says. "I thought you said the boy's all right."

I bite my lower lip as Teaspoon calls Lou a boy. "That… that's it… Lou… Lou ain't a boy."

"Whatever do you mean?" Buck asks this time.

"He ain't a boy, but a girl. Lou's a woman!" I finally blurt out, still feeling strange to refer to Lou as a 'she'.

At my words Jimmy and Cody burst out laughing and the others sport obvious sceptical looks. "Oh Rachel, that was a good one! You got us there for one moment!" Cody exclaims, guffawing and slapping the table.

"I'm serious, Cody."

My no-nonsense tone puts a stop to their mirth. "I… I don't understand," Kid mutters, and the rest echo his words silently, staring at me in disbelief as they wait for me to elaborate.

"He… she was all dirty after what happened in the stables, so I asked him… her to take off his… her clothes, and when she removed her long johns top… well, you can imagine the rest. She's as much of a woman as I am."

There is an eerie silence in the bunkhouse as the men take in what I've said. I can't blame them for their reluctance to believe my words. "But… do you mean she's been impersonating a man for some reason all this time?" Jimmy asks.

I shake my head. "I know for certain she actually thinks she's a man, and has no idea what I'm telling you now."

"How do you know that?"

I shift my eyes to Kid. "We had a conversation last week, and from what she said, there's no doubt. She has no idea who she is."

"But how can that be, Rachel?" Cody breaks in. "Doesn't she look at herself and realizes her body is different?"

"I don't think she knows how different she is. Remember: her father kept her isolated on their farm all her life. I don't know what he told her or how he explained certain facts to her, but the truth is that Lou was made to believe she's a man, and I guess she had no reason to question the truth she's been fed all these years."

"But why would her father lie to her about this?" Buck asks. "It makes no sense."

"And it's really weird," Jesse remarks with a grimace.

"More often than not we people make no sense," Teaspoon adds his two cents thoughtfully.

"When we went to visit him, he was frantic. He kept shouting that Lou was in danger and demanded he go back home. I thought his reaction was odd and over the top, but now I understand he was worried his secret would get discovered."

"Which is exactly what's happened," Jimmy concludes Kid's thought. "And thankfully, it's been Rachel who found out."

I shudder, thinking what kind of danger Lou might have run into if her truth had been uncovered by the wrong people. Her father definitely left her in a very vulnerable position, snatching the weapons she could use to defend herself. For that reason alone, his actions are inexcusable.

"And what do we do now?" Buck utters the million-dollar question.

"We have to tell her, don't we?"

Kid nods without a trace of doubt at Cody's words. "She needs to know."

"And the key question here is: who tells her?"

Teaspoon is right, and before anybody volunteers an answer, I already know what they're gonna say. All eyes turn to look at me, and I suppose I'm the logical person to undertake this delicate mission. I'm usually good with people, and my being a woman also is a favourable token. Yet, I'm not looking forward to doing this. How on earth am I gonna drop this bomb on Lou? How can I tell her? This will doubtlessly mean a twist in her whole existence. Her life's going to be turned inside out. Nothing she now believes is true, and as soon as the words go out of my mouth, Lou won't be the same, but it has to be done… hopefully, this will mean the road to understanding and acceptance. Lou ain't happy now, and even though this will hurt her, it might also be what she needs. The ball is rolling now, and what is left to do is the actual telling. That's all. It shouldn't be so scare, should it?


End file.
